


A Troubling Situation Begins

by Vren



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters: Let's Go! Pikachu & Let's Go! Eievui | Pokemon: Let's Go Pikachu! & Let's Go Eevee!, Pokemon GO
Genre: Animal Death, Forgiveness, M/M, Minor Violence, Redemption, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 32,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22293823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vren/pseuds/Vren
Summary: Recovering from a broken leg, Professor Willow is stuck in Kanto University when his assistants discover the unusual remains of a rattata. All evidence suggests that the rattata has been genetically altered to make it stronger and more aggressive. As the professor investigates the rattata, he comes to understand just how little he knows about the people around him, including James, his new research assistant who seems to know everyone and never speaks about his past.
Relationships: Professor Willow/James Team Rocket
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	1. A Meeting of Professors

It was mistakenly believed that Pokѐmon professors has charmed lives capable of dictating their own work schedule and social engagements. That, if one of them wanted to go for a year into the wilderness and discover something new and unheard of, they could just put on their Out of Office and walk out the door. Professor Willow mused over the many inaccuracies of that misconception while he sipped champagne and faked a smile.

  
The professors worked for the University, each one assigned to their region's campus. As Professor Oak had been his mentor, and because it was the biggest, Willow was technically a member of the Kanto Campus faculty with all the responsibilities that came with it. Like turning up to fundraisers because his presence at these things guaranteed more attendees and therefore more money.

  
At least, the other professors were all suffering with him too. This was an all-professor event with maximum press coverage, most of the social elite and some of the up-coming students who had the potential to be the next generation of professors. Anything to inspire young people, focus the minds of the environmentally concerned and create an influx of funds to bump up the government grants.

A further consolation was his three head researchers, Blanche, Candela, and Spark, were still in the field, continuing his studies on the pidgey populations where there was a low concentration of avian apex predators like braviarys and corviknights. He would be back out in the Galar region when he'd finished smiling for people who didn't know his first name and with any luck, it would be another year before he was back again.

He finished his drink and was considering having another before sneaking away when two Pokѐmon yelped and ran across the room to someone who had just come in.  
Willow accepted another glass from a student acting as a waiter as they passed him and up the legs of one man. It was the Kanto Champion's eevee and the Alolan Champion's pikachu, but they weren't running to Chase or Ash. Instead, it was a young man with lilac hair peeking out from under a slouch beanie. Possibly the most beautiful man Willow had ever seen with large emerald eyes and a slightly turned-up nose which gave him an elfin appearance. Eevee settled in his arms and Pikachu sat on his shoulders, holding on by his hair.

"So, you're finally here," Professor Kukui shouted across the room. "I was going to send a search party for you."

"Sorry, I had work to finish," the man said in a cultured voice that was at odds with his skinny jeans and workman boots. An elderly weezing bobbed at his back.

"So serious, James. Come on, let me introduce you to some people."

Kukui threw his arm around the young man nearly knocking Pikachu off his shoulder. They weaved through the crowd, Kukui waving at people and introducing them to the young man. Willow approached the buffet table and took pictures on his phone, then sent it to his researchers so they could see what they were missing.

"And this is Professor Willow," Kukui said, approaching Willow and the buffet table. "Willow, this is James Montgomery."

Willow offered his hand. Most people tilted their heads down when talking to him, looking up at him through their fringes. He interpreted it as shyness meeting the TV Pokѐmon Professor. That was not the look he got from James as he juggled his grip on Eevee, so he didn't drop her while he took Willow's hand. Demur, maybe. Coy, certainly and filled with confidence. But Kukui didn't suffer fools, so Willow surmised the confidence was based on intelligence rather than just a pretty face. And the old weezing, gormlessly grinning and eking gases everywhere it went, suggested this James Montgomery valued loyalty and friendship.

"Nice to meet you, Professor," James said.

"And you too." Willow stroked Eevee's head. "You're popular."

"He's friends with Chase and Ash," Kukui said.

"Are you a champion too?" Willow asked. There was something familiar about James, but he couldn't place it.

"No, I'm a student," James said. "Just finishing my second year. Professor Kukui is my sponsor."

Willow broadened his smile, unleashing the full force of his charm on James, something normally reserved for the TV and new research students.

"And what is your thesis, Mr Montgomery?" he asked, taking a glass from a student waiter and handing it to James.

"Willow," Kukui said with a warning tone.

"Ignore him," Willow said. "Sell it to me. Use me as practice for your lecturers."

James smiled. It was quite disarming and Willow had a sneak view how people must feel when he did it to them.

"My proposal is to utilise the remote research applications to explore what moves and behaviours in gyrados are specific to what locations. We accept that in their family pods, wailmers learn specific moves which we may not find in other pods in other locations, what if that is the same for gyrados? There could be variations between saltwater and fresh water gyrados, between those in the Alolan oceans to Kanto oceans, even lake to river based on the social interactions available. Real-world applications would be in the water emergency services and coastal defense, although I'm sure trainers would be able to find a use for the data," James finished with a smile.

Willow's mind was whirling before James had finished. It was common knowledge that wailmers passed on information within their family pods and if pods met then they would share information. Gyrados were a little more isolate but there were times when they came together, for mating and birthing purposes usually, and understanding how these limited social interactions benefited the Pokѐmon would be exceptionally beneficial, especially for someone who hated not knowing things. If they used tracking equipment once the researchers had initially encountered the gyrados, they could find the specific Pokѐmon again and retest them at a future date.

"We would need to source some of those net Pokѐballs from Galar. Professor Magnolia should be able to help with that," Willow said. "What have you observed that's led you select this?"

"I have some experience with magikarp and gyrados," James replied. "Don't you think it amazing that one of the weakest Pokѐmon evolves to one of the strongest? Gyrados are dragons, but in their first evolution, all they can do is flop around on the ground. If this piece demonstrates anything, then it may be worth looking at magikarps to see how their experiences impact their evolutions."

Honest and forward thinking, the more James spoke the more obvious it was why Kukui was sponsoring him.

"What sort of tasks would you ask researchers to do?" Willow asked.

They headed towards an empty table and sat down. James began outlining the research tasks needed, Willow making notes on his phone.

They had outlined the first set of research tasks when Chase came over and removed James's hat. Although the front of his hair was jaw length, the rest of his hair fell to his shoulders in salon perfect straightness. She kissed him on the head.

"Still meeting for dinner tomorrow?" she asked, setting him hat down beside him.

"Yes. I'm looking forward to it," James replied, running his fingers through his hair.

"Let's go, Eevee," Chase said to her Pokѐmon.

Eevee burrowed down further on James's lap. Chase put her hands on her hips. She had been the champion for the last four years and was credited responsibility for defeating Team Rocket when they tried to take over Silph Co. It amused Willow that such a strong, feisty woman couldn’t wrangle her own Pokémon. James picked Eevee up and handed her to Chase.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said.

"Eevoi," Eevee replied as Chase carried her out of the room.

As soon as she was gone, Willow and James went back to planning until they were disturbed again by Ash. He tried to pick up Pikachu but the Pokѐmon hid under the table.

"Can I have Pikachu back please, James?" Ash asked.

James scooped up Pikachu and rubbed their noses together. Little sparks of electricity trickled from Pikachu up to James, making his hair rise. If it hurt James, or if he even noticed, it wasn't obvious. He smiled as if just being with Pikachu was the most important thing to him in that moment.

"I'll see you tomorrow, OK?" James said. "You can sit with me then."

"Pika," Pikachu replied and scampered into Ash's arms.

"See you later, James," Ash said as he left.

“Bye, Twerp,” James replied.

Willow tried to return to their planning, but he was too distracted by James's hair. It was stood on end, floating like a mist around him. He looked perfect, like a fairy type, and Willow caught himself smiling instead of working.

"What?" James asked when he realised he was the only one working.

Willow moved chairs to be closer to the other and he patted some of James's hair down.

"You're a little fluffy," Willow said. "Hazard of getting so close to electric-types."

"Thank you," James said.

The change in proximity altered Willow's perception from an academic one to a personal one, picking up on the little things that made James human. His hair was so soft it only added to his fairy-like quality. His skin was unblemished and well cared for. He smelt of something masculine, sandalwood and leather with a vanilla undertone that softened the overall effect. It was no wonder the Pokѐmon felt comfortable around him, his confidence was non-threatening, and his appearance was beguiling.  
Kukui's hand slapped down hard on Willow's shoulder.

"The staff wanna clean up," Kukui said. "Shall we take this somewhere else? Augustine wants to find a bar or something."  
Willow looked passed Kukui. Most of the tables had been cleared away and the buffet food had all gone. The only people left were Willow and James, Kukui and Sycamore, and some bored-looking cleaning staff.

"Yes, sorry. I wasn't paying attention," Willow said standing.

"No, it's my fault," Kukui said. "I should have known you were going to do this. It's not like I'm unaware of your obsessive personality."

"I prefer focused."

"Come on, James. If you leave, he'll follow."

James stood too. He came up to Willow's eyes, a few inches shorter than him.

"I need to go," James said. "Get this down before I forget."

"Hang on, give me your number, I'll send you my notes," Willow said.

They walked to the exit, to the grateful expressions of the cleaners, exchanging details and Willow sent James the notes he'd made. At the double doors leading from the conference room to the rest of the university campus, they stopped, Kukui and Augustine Sycamore on one side, James the other. Willow was surprised at how torn he was about which way he went.

"Look, if you need me at any time, have any questions, whatever, just give me a call or send me an email, and we'll talk it through, OK?" Willow said.

James nodded, waved to them all and left. Willow turned to his colleagues.

"Don't," Kukui said when James was gone.

"Pardon?" Willow asked.

"My sponsor, my student, when James finishes his third year, he's coming to Alola with me."

"Seriously? We were just talking."

"And I'm just warning. You owe me, remember?"

"Oh geez," Willow said, rolling his eyes. "Are you still going on about that?"

"You got me arrested."

Sycamore snorted with laughter. They started walking towards the accommodation area of the campus.

"I did not get you arrested," Willow disagreed.

"It was your idea," Kukui protested.

"You didn't run fast enough."

"I'm with Willow on this one," Sycamore agreed. "You didn't run fast enough."

"Whatever, I got arrested while you two didn't. So, hands off my student."

Willow grinned, winding Kukui up was so easy, particularly with Sycamore in his usual playful mood.

"You might need to tell James that. It's my remote research app he wants to get his immaculately manicured hands on," he said, stooping to speak to Kukui, which earned him a shove into a wall.

Sycamore groaned and stopped at the door to the room he had been given for the night by the university.

"Please tell me you’re not going to spend all night arguing about that lad, “Sycamore said. "He’s just a student.”

“I’m sponsoring him,” Kukui argued.

“And it’s my tech he wants to get his degree with,” Willow argued, more to wind Kukui up than any possessiveness of the tech.

“Whatever. Students can complete their third year with a professor if they can find one to take them on. Why doesn't Willow take this James for the year, they can work on his plan using that app, the lad will get his degree with bells on it, then he goes to Alola fully trained to hit the ground running for Kukui."

It was an interesting proposal. Willow and Kukui stared at each other while they considered the idea. It was a good one. James's idea had merit and Willow was eager to test it out as it was also repeatable for so many other types. Once a working relationship had been established then James and Willow could continue to work remotely. And Kukui would support it. His interest in Pokѐmon moves meant that the three could work quite closely if this worked well.

Kukui nodded first.

"OK then." He held his hand out to Willow.

"Done," Willow replied taking his hand.

"Right, now that's sort can we get ready, please. There are lovely ladies out there just waiting for me to come into their lives," Sycamore said and went into his room.

XXX

It didn't take much to find James the next day. A quick search on social media found posts relating to Ash and Chase and their location, so he headed over to the cafe. He hated social gatherings. He was recognised. Everything he did was scrutinised by other people, recorded then played back looking for flaws and mistakes. To that end, he chose to wore jeans and a shirt and put his reading glasses in his skirt pocket rather than on his head.

But no matter how much preparation he made Willow was still nervous. His heart thudded painfully as he opened the cafe door and scanned the people inside, clutching his satchel strap like they were the only thing keeping him in reality.

James stood out with his weezing floating by his head. Every so often, James lifted his hand and fed Weezing from his plate. There was a spare chair at the table and Willow aimed for it, threading through the other tables and customers until he reached them.

"Can I join you?" he asked.

"Professor, of course," Chase said. She kicked the chair out for him. "Looking good today. Augustine told me last night was an all-nighter."

"Thank you," Willow said, accepting the compliment without offering any further information. "I won't take up much of your time."

"Nonsense." Chase handed him a menu. "Have dinner with us. It'll be ages before you sit at a proper table again when you leave."

"No, honestly. I have so much to do this was just a quick thing." Willow sat down, put his glasses on, produced his tablet from his satchel and handed it over to James. "Some students complete their final year in the field if they can find a research group to take them on," he said. "This is the standard contract detailing duration period, duties to be undertaken, expectations both the groups and the students, that sort of thing. I was really impressed with your ideas, James. If you want, I'm prepared to take you out with me next year. I'll give you access to the remote research app to use for your research and you can help me with all the other things that go on with on-location research."

James nodded along staring at Willow. It was a little disconcerting, but Willow continued.

"Don't worry, I'm not expecting an answer now. Take it away, have a read, have a think. The university will want their tablet back at some point. But I'm sure they won't mind you holding on to it for a little while. If you do want to, then I've filled in my section, you just need to do yours and email it to the university."

"Oh my gosh, James. That's amazing," Chase said. "You don't need to read it. Just sign it."

"I think he should read it," Willow said.

"I had one of those," Ash said. "I did it for Professor Oak and I read the contract. There's nothing bad in it."

"He should still read it," Willow pressed. "There's a bit he needs to fill in about what he expects from me. That's important."

"OK, professor. We'll make sure he does it," Chase promised.

Although he had told James to wait, Willow spent the rest of the day in an itchy funk, checking his mail far more often than he normally would. What if James wasn't interested? It was possible, some people preferred indoor academic studies as opposed to getting out there on the front line of research. James's appearance was so well kept, so perfect, doubts began to occur that James was really the right fit.

Then his email pinged, and he jumped on his tablet, putting his reading glasses on. It was from James.

His hands shook and Willow snarled at himself. His behaviour was ridiculous. James was just a student. An intelligent one but still just a student. He opened the email and flipped to the end. James had signed the contract.

Willow sat back in his chair and took his glasses off. A suspicion niggled on the edge of his consciousness that he had been played. It was possible that Kukui and Sycamore had worked together to get him to take this James on, but it didn't seem likely. Willow would have let James use the remote research tech without any subterfuge. Also, Willow had checked up on James before approaching him. The gym leaders Brock and Misty both knew him. Both had talked about his natural affinity to Pokémon, and a deeply caring, if a little submissive, nature. He'd even gone as far as to contact Wallace, Sinnoh's top co-ordination, who knew him. Wallace had said much the same. James was a rough diamond who needed sorting out. So maybe it was nothing more than Kukui genuinely not wanting Willow to poach his future assistant.

"Like I need another one," he muttered to himself and that reminded him that he needed to tell his three assistants that he was returning to them with an extra person. He sucked between his teeth. Being a professor was not all the glamour and parties people thought it was.


	2. Chapter 2

The professor was scratching at his leg again. He had one of those retro pointers lecturers used to use for pointing at things on charts and pictures. The professor had threaded the thin end through the top of his leg cast to reach wherever was bothering him. James sighed, balancing the tray of coffees in one hand while he fumbled for his pass.

The lab for Pokémon Habitat and Protection was a large glass affair with a main shared space with a number of rooms coming off it for video conferences, private work, or for Professor Willow to use as a temporary base while he was recovering from a broken leg. Unable to move without crutches, the professor was in a ridiculous temper. If anything, he was worse now he was nearing the time to have his cast removed. So much pent-up energy needing release, he was difficult to be around, unless you were a student, in which case he was all smiles and his TV persona. James was the only person who really saw his frustration and anger, and after Jessie's temper, Professor Willow's was nothing.

James got into the lab without spilling anything and made his way around the lab, handing out the drinks he'd been asked for, saving Professor Willow's for last.

Of all the Pokémon Professors, Professor Willow was the closest thing to a rockstar they had. His progressive use of technology to reach researchers, his vlogs, his youth, his personality, his appearance, all combined to make him one of the most popular professors to have existed. That James was working for him, after everything he had done, was a minor miracle and all thanks to the friends he made before enrolling at the university if he was honest. Not that he'd realised they were friends at the time. It was a good job they weren’t so blind.

The professor was still scratching his leg when James came in.

"If it's still itchy does that mean it isn't healed yet?" James asked as sweetly as possible.

Professor Willow glared at him before slowly and deliberately removing the pointer.

"It's warm in here and my leg is sweaty in this stupid cast," he replied.

James grimaced. "I'm sure your fans would love to hear that."

That earned him another glare, so James gave him a broad smile and placed the coffee in front of the professor.

"Straight white coffee, no syrup, no foam, no sugar, no nonsense."

"Of all the research assistants I've had, you are the best at coffee," Willow said taking it. He sipped his drink then sat back in his chair. "I've read your paper and sent it back with a few minor tweaks, some points you need to draw out a little more, but other than that, it is an excellent piece on the location impact on gyrados battle moves with some interesting insights and a fantastic endorsement of the remote research tech."

"Thank you. It’s been quite cathartic. I had one once. A magikarp," James said. "It didn't end well."

"Sounds like a story behind that."

There was. On a ship, James had been tricked into buy a magikarp, then kicked it into the ocean to get rid of it. It had evolved into the angriest gyrados in the world and things had rapidly gone down after that, including the ship with James still on it.

"Not one you'd want to hear, Professor," James lied.

"Maybe when we're heading back out to join the others."

"Do you think they'll take the cast off today?"

"If they don't, I'm going to bribe students with finishing their degrees now with honours until I find one who'll take it off for me. You get first refusal."

James laughed. Professor Willow had the easiest manner of all the people James had met. When he spoke to people, he really listened to them, took an interest. It had made James sad, if only he had met Professor Willow earlier, James might never have joined Team Rocket. Of course, there was also the fact that James was utterly in love with the professor. His confidence, his sense of humour, his broad shoulders and lithe body, his dreamy smile and amazing eyes and...

"You want to walk with me over to X-Ray?" Willow asked, breaking James from his daydream.

"Of course."

They had been out in the field for six months when the professor had slipped down a bank while out tracking Pokѐmon. Two hours later, he'd hobbled back into camp with a broken leg and a raging fever from the early onset of blood poisoning and been airlifted to the nearest hospital. At Professor Oak’s insistence, Willow had gone back to Kanto to recover and taken James with him.

The team leaders, Candela, Spark, and Blanche had made it clear. James's job in Kanto was to ensure the professor rested, didn't rush anything and did exactly as his physician told him. Part of that meant walking him across the campus to make sure Professor Willow didn't get distracted because if there was anyone who could side-tracked by a butterfree crossing the campus gardens, then it was the professor.

However, this was one appointment James didn't think the professor would miss. It was an appointment he might not rely the full details to his team, though which was the other reason James was going. There was a possibility Professor Willow might gloss over a few bits if it meant he got back out in the field a little faster.

The professor used both crutches as he walked. He hated them, James had heard many a lecture on what vile things they were, but it was those or a wheelchair and Willow was determined not to have one of those. He was also at a stage in his recovery where he probably didn't need them, but with his cast on, he was uneven and couldn't walk without a wobble. James walked at a normal pace, and Willow kept up.

"Have these last six months been boring for you?" Willow asked.

"Not at all," James replied.

"But I promised you a placement year. Instead, you've had half that, and the rest of the time babysitting me."

"There are worse people to babysit," James said.

Willow laughed, "I shall try harder to be a pain. And what will you do when you have your results? Go to Alola?"

James considered this before answering. When Chase had defeated Team Rocket, with nothing else to do, James and Jessie had returned to the one place where they’d never been cold, Alola. Professors Kukui and Burnet had found them and suggested a different way of life than their previous employment. Jessie was in Sinnoh, successfully competing in the region’s leagues. Kukui offered to sponsor James at the University and if he was at a loss for work at the end of his three years, then he could go back to Alola where Kukui and Burnet would have a place for him. Professor Willow or Professor Kukui. It was impossible to make a decision.

"I would like to stay, if I could. If there was a space on the team. But I would understand if not. You have a finite budget and only so many places."

"There is a place for you. Always. Do not doubt that," Willow said.

The professor stopped. James carried on for a few steps before realising. He turned back. The professor was studying him in with an intensity that worried James. It made him think that his history was clear to see, and Professor Willow could read every bad thing James had ever done.

"Are you happy with my performance?" James asked, feeling the need to fill the silence.

"Yes." Willow shook himself. "Yes, I am. Come on. I don't want to be late."

There was something the professor wanted to say but wasn't. James didn't push. He respected everyone had secrets or things they didn't want to talk about.

The university had a hospital onsite, and Professor Willow was taken straight in. The cast was removed, and the professor heaved a huge sigh.

"You have no idea how good that feels," he said.

"Has it been itchy?" the technician asked, pointing to the red marks.

"Sweaty."

"That can happen, particularly in these warmer months."

The professor raised his eyebrows at James as if to say, 'I told you so.' James stuck his tongue out at him.

"Can you walk to the X-Ray machine?" the technician asked.

Willow stood up, put weight on his leg for the first time in months and nearly fell over. James and the technician caught him before he hit the ground.

"Just need to rebuild my strength, that's all," Willow said.

"Oh, I don't doubt it. But that can take a while too," the technician warned. "You sit here while we take the pictures. Come with me, please," he said to James.

When they were out of the room, the technician started the X-Ray machine.

"Has he been resting?" he asked James.

"He has been following your instructions," James said. "I think he gets that if he does what you say, he'll get back out quicker."

"He'll need physiotherapy to build up his strength again. You saw what happened when I asked him to stand on it."

James winced. "He won't like that. But I think he'll get it. The professor isn't stupid."

"Just a little headstrong," the technician said, taking an image of Professor Willow's leg.

That was the way of professors, James had come to realise after his time with Professor Willow. They were focused, driven, and thick-skinned. Or at least, Professor Willow was. He was teased on almost a daily basis by Spark for being a pin-up for men and women of all ages. He ignored Spark as much as he ignored the sneaky pictures people took of him, or the people jeering at him for not having 'a proper job'. Under-pinning everything was a sense of humour. James liked that. Giovanni had never laughed. Not the way Professor Willow laughed, anyway.

"OK, let's go talk to him," the technician said just as James's phone rang. "That shouldn't be on in here."

It was Blanche.

"I need to take this," he said to the technician.

"I will email you, so you know what I've told him."

"Thank you."

"Why are you not in the lab?" Blanche demanded when James answered.

"I'm with the professor at an appointment," James told her.

"How is he?"

James looked through the window at Professor Willow smiling and talking with extreme animation.

"The cast is staying off," James said. Then the professor's face became serious. "But he needs physiotherapy to learn to walk again."

"We have found an incentive for him to concentrate on his recovery. We have sent something back to him at the lab. I have had a notification it has arrived. Call me when you have opened it," Blanche said.

"What is it?"

"It's easier if you see it," she replied and hung up


	3. Chapter 3

"Congratulations, Professor, it would appear from the x-rays that your leg is healed," the technician said. "

So, I can get back out there," Willow clapped his hands.

"No, now you can start rehabilitation."

"Rehabilitation?"

"You've been in a cast for a long time. You need to learn to walk again."

"Can I do that out in the field?"

The technician gave him a hard stare over the rim of his glasses.

"Look, I know you want to get back out there. I get it. But if you rush this and fall, you could rebreak your leg, make it worse, never get back out there again. At your age."

"I'm only thirty-eight," Willow interrupted

"At your age, even though you're in great shape, things take longer to heal, and any setbacks could be permanent. If you don't pay attention to your body, Willow, you'll never get out there again. Do you understand?"

Willow hated the logic even though he understood it.

"OK, get me in to see the physio," Willow sighed.

"I'm glad you said that. They're already here," the technician said with a smile that Willow didn't like.

An hour later, Blissey wheeled Willow back to the lab. He was sweaty and exhausted. Who would have thought that a few months of not moving could undo all those years of walking? He hadn’t wanted the wheelchair, but he acknowledged that in this instance, accepting help was better than being pig-headed.

He was so exhausted he could just sleep at his desk, but that was something he'd never live down. Because of his tiredness from the physio, he almost missed the lab’s atmosphere.

Blinking rapidly, Willow sat straighter in the wheelchair. It was quieter than normal, but noisy at the same time. Everyone was talking in hushed voices, and the television and other media sources were still on but muted.

James was in the comms room where the satellite TV was connected to Blanche, Candela and Spark out in the field. There was a box on a table which James kept looking at but did not touch. Blanche hated James at the best of times, but now she appeared even angrier than normal. Either that or the drugs they'd given Willow for the pain was messing with his vision.

He grabbed one of the crutches and pulled himself up. Immediately, his leg ached and with regret he picked up the other one. He would use two crutches, but he'd be damned if he was going to use that wheelchair more than necessary.

"What's going on?" he asked, hoping he wasn't slurring.

None of the interns would answer him. One pointed at James in the comms room. Willow clenched his teeth as he hobbled into the room.

"What's going on?" he repeated.

"I see the cast's off," James said. “Congratulations.”

James was good at many things but deflecting people and outright lying were not two of them. Nor were they talents of Blanche, Candela, and Spark, it appeared from the way they were all looking in different directions.

"What's in the box?" Willow asked.

No one responded.

"I broke my leg. I did not go senile. Tell me what's in the box," Willow ordered adopting the tone he used for the classroom.

"It is a dead rattata," Blanche said. "But we do not understand how it died."

"It looks desiccated," Candela said.

"Which means dried out, James," Blanche added.

"I know what it means," James replied. “Why do people always assume I’m stupid just because I’m beautiful.”

Again, it could have been the drugs, but Willow could have sworn Blanche blushed. The other two certainly did. Willow covered his own embarrassment by sitting down at the table and bringing the box over to him. He had to keep his leg straight, the pain a dull ache, but discomforting enough that bending it would bring tears to his eyes.

Pushing his pain aside, Willow opened the box. Desiccated was the word. The rattata's skin had shrivelled making its teeth and claws appear longer than normal. Its eyes were open. They were pink, maybe red, possibly from blood leaking into the whites. Its colouring was wrong too, the wrong shade of purple but that could have been because of the region it came from.

"Where was it found?" he asked.

Pictures appeared on one of the other screens in the comms room.

"I found it," Spark said. "I was out by the ruins of Keito Village. And there it was, just lying there in one of the houses."

Willow nodded. Seventy-five years ago, Keito Village on the edge of Sapphire Sea was attacked by a shoal of gyrados. The village had been allowing a pharmaceuticals company to dump in the water. It was making the water Pokémon sick which was why the gyrados attacked. The place was abandoned and after seventy-five years, Willow wanted to know how the Pokémon were reclaiming the land for themselves.

"Any signs of people in there?" Willow asked.

"No."

"Pokémon?"

"Not really, a few pidgeys, we saw their droppings rather than them. This rattata was the only one of those we saw."

"The water?"

"Records state it was cleaned after the incident. We've recorded some parasects, a few magikarps, a couple of tentacools."

"Do we have an up-to-date aerial map of the site?" Willow asked.

"Do you think there are people here other than us?" Blanche asked.

Willow shrugged. The rattata smelt strange, not putrid, that rancid sweetness of decay. He couldn't put his finger on it. His mind filed that away and began thinking of the things he could ascertain now.

"Let's take samples of its blood, compare it to healthy samples we have on file. I want a medical lab prepped for a full autopsy and samples of the environment. James, contact the Pokémon centres in the area to see if anyone's brought in any Pokémon, either domesticated or wild, which are presenting like this one. And can someone put the coffee on?"

Out in the field, Blanche and Candela started relaying Willow's orders to the researchers with them. James left the lab, calling for an autopsy room prepped and the coffee. Willow was alone with Spark and the rattata.

"Does it hurt?" Spark asked.

"Like a bitch. Physio said it could be a while before I walk again properly. Typical, isn't it?" Willow forced a grin at the screens. "The weirdest thing to happen for years, and I'm stuck in here."

"It won't be long, surely, and you'll be back out here?"

"Longer than you think."


	4. Chapter 4

Singing broke through Willow's sleeping.

How long he'd been asleep in the wheelchair, Willow didn't know. He checked the lab to make sure no one was watching and wiped his mouth to remove any drool. Other than the singer, there was no one around.

Willow wheeled himself away from the lab table and the puzzling rattata. He'd been forced to take more painkillers partway through taking samples from the Pokémon when the pain distracted him too much from his work. He remembered going a bit foggy, then nothing. It was lucky Spark wasn't in the lab or he'd have taken photos of him.

The lights were out in the lab apart from one of the rooms. James was still in the lab, with a pair of noise-cancelling earphones. He was working on a laptop, singing as he did, Weezing snoring on a hammock strung out in the corner of the room, a cloud of foul gases around it. There was also a ralts with James.

On his first trip to Galar, Willow had found Ralts and she’d followed him home, but as soon as James had arrived, she had taken to him like almost everyone else who met him. And James had not only recognised her species and region, but also her gender. Ralts sat on a shelf by James's head, swinging her feet. Every so often, James lifted his head and sang to her and she cooed back at him. She looked over as Willow got closer and James turned around.

"Hello, Sleeping Beauty," James said.

"The medication is stronger than I thought," Willow admitted, rubbing the back of his head. “Do we have any results yet?"

"A little. A comparison of male Kanto rattata DNA to Coconut in there shows certain glands are bigger suggesting elevated production of certain hormones. I'm just trying to work out what those changes have done to it."

"Let me see," Willow said. He brought his glasses down from the top of his head and peered at the screen.

The adrenal glands and the gonads in the Pokémon's ovaries were enlarged. Both produced testosterone among other things, though that was the only one they had in common.

"Bone density is also stronger," James added.

"Increased aggression and a stronger frame to handle the extra fights," Willow mused.

"Man-made?" James asked.

"Possibly. Of course, it's just as likely this is a naturally occurring mutation. Evolution. Only for whatever reason, this little lady didn't work out."

"Coconut," James corrected.

"Coconut? As in desiccated coconut?"

James grinned, the hint of a blush on his high cheekbones. Cute. Kooky. It was attractive that this incredibly handsome man could make such dump jokes then blush when caught out about it. It was attractive that he sang to his Pokémon, not caring who was around. James was attractive. End of statement. The painkillers were still in Willow's system, he could tell by the amount of effort he was having to put into thinking of the simplest things while being intensely curious about the flower stem tattoo visible from under the cuff of James's shirts.

"What is your tattoo?" Willow blurted, the filter between his brain and his mouth failing. “I’ve always wanted to know.”

James's blushed deepened. "A mistake," he said eventually.

"A rose?"

"A different time in my life."

Willow wasn't too far into medication to recognise James's reluctance, so he changed the subject by checking the time.

"It's late, and we're tired. We're not going to make any great discoveries tonight. Let's come back at it tomorrow," Willow said.

They left together, Willow using his crutches, walking slowly, gradually increasing the weight he put on his leg. James pushed the wheelchair, his light coat thrown over one of the handles, and Weezing sitting in the chair. They took the elevator down to the ground floor and out into the university quadrangle.

There were a few students and a couple of lecturers. All of them greeted Willow. His forced return to the campus was a big thing because whole year groups were graduating without him ever setting foot in the grounds. Since coming back, he'd given four lectures which had made him sick to the stomach and he worried that he was coming off as uninteresting and slightly manic. Lecturing wasn't the same as the vlogs which were scripted, and he could do over if he started to blather. There were many reasons why he couldn't wait to get back out in the field.

His mid-afternoon sleep meant that Willow wasn't tired. He accepted there wasn’t much more he could do that night, but he wasn’t ready to be on his own just yet.

"Bring the chair over to my room and I'll find you a beer?" he asked James.

"What I won't do for free stuff," James said.

"I might even find some not-too-old takeout if you're very lucky."

"Ooh, beer and old take away, practically a date. How can I refuse, Professor?"

James's words sent shivers into Willow's stomach. The way Willow's title slipped from his lips like velvet. Willow liked to think of James as a good-natured innocent, not aware of his appearance it seemed so effortless, but he did know he was fooling himself. That snarky sense of humour, the veiled, cutting insults, the way he had just spoken, all these things suggested James knew not only what he looked like but also how to use it.

Willow's apartment was in a section of the university for faculty members with no external residence. It had been his since he had become a professor, but this was the longest he had ever been in it. Fortunately, there was a cleaning service and his laundry was in a box by the door. James wheeled the chair in then came back for the box.

"Do you mind if I put the Co-Ordinator League on?" James asked.

"You watch that?" Willow said, getting two beers from the fridge.

"I have a friend who competes in it."

This fascinated Willow and he turned the TV on. Two super-excited commentators were discussing the last performer. Some woman called Dawn. James smiled.

"I know her," he said. "She's not the friend I'm watching this for. But I have met Dawn."

"I would never have guessed you were the sort of person to be interested in this sort of thing," Willow said sitting down on the two-seater sofa next to James and handed him a beer.

"There are lots of things you don't know about me," James said, he gestured to the screen. "But this, it intrigues me. It's not a fight, not completely, it's a different way of showing the bond between trainer and Pokémon. The style, the costumes, the glitter, the accessories, in this league they have to work and if the Pokémon isn't loving it, then they don't perform. The battle is also more about appearance and it doesn't go until unconsciousness. It's all style points. I appreciate that more than the other leagues, but I had to experience them to understand that."

"Did you ever fight with Wheezing?" Willow asked.

"Yes, but we weren't very good. I guess we knew then our hearts weren't in it. I would never do it now. People and Pokémon can do so much more than just fight together."

"I've never fought with them," Willow said.

He sipped his beer and grimaced. On top of the medication, the beer instantly went to his head, leaving him even fuzzier.

"Not even once?" "No, I never even owned a Pokémon, not in any way that needs a ball. They just kind of followed me around like Ralts does with you."

The screen changed and a woman with pink hair came on with a dustox.

"That's her," James said. "She always did her best with a dustox, but then she let her original one go when it was the mating season. She must have caught another one," James said.

Willow studied the woman on the screen. She didn't seem like the sort of person James would know, a bright, bold woman who stood on the stage, dancing with her Pokémon, and yet, she was the sort of person who would want someone like James around.

"An ex-girlfriend?" Willow asked and James laughed.

"Good grief, no. She's the bossiest, most demanding person I've ever met, and that includes you. We travelled together for a while before we realised we were far better at other things than the career we were trying to succeed at. Now she's winning competitions and I have a roof over my head."

Willow took another swig of his beer.

"So, do you have anyone in your life?" he asked, the words tripping out of his mouth instead of remaining in his thoughts.

"No," James replied.

Was there a hint of a grin on his face? It was hard to tell. Medication and beer were making Willow drowsy and saying stupid things. He tried to concentrate on the screen but the swirl of sparkling dustox glitter and ribbons semi-hypnotised him and he fell asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Professor Willow walked out of the dressing room with only a slight limp. He wore his trademark base layer under his waterproof three-quarter length trousers and jacket. He put his white lab coat on as he walked towards the camera and fished out the script. Bringing his glasses from the top of his head, he slipped them onto the bridge of his nose and began reading.

Around James, the students and film crew sighed. He understood. There was nothing quite like seeing Professor Willow all dressed up and ready to go. And with his glasses on, the professor was so handsome it was a wonder anyone was standing. James wondered if he even knew the effect he was having on people. It was as likely not, Professor Willow was so focused on his work he wasn't aware of much around him. James didn't share the sentiment. The professor was ready to go back in the field. James had handed his thesis in. His year with the professor was over. When Professor Willow left, James would not be going with him.

"Pika?" a little voice by James's feet said.

Without looking down, James scooped Pikachu up and placed him on his shoulder.

"Pika-pi," the Pokémon cooed, rubbing his paws through James's hair.

"James."

"Twerp," James greeted the smaller man.

Of all the people James had met, and stolen from, and battled, Ash Katchum was the least grudge-holding of them all. The boy had always been too innocent for his own good, an irritating yet endearing feature. And he was good to have a laugh with. He still fell for James's teasing, a little slow on the uptake sometimes. And most amusingly of all, after all the times he tried to steal Pikachu, the little Pokѐmon now ran to him voluntarily.

"Quiet on the set," someone shouted.

James folded his arms as the professor folded his notes back in his pocket and sat down in the wheelchair.

"Hi, everyone. It's been a while. How you all doing out there? Although I've been stuck indoors, I've been getting some reports of change adaptations to wild Pokémon," Professor Willow said in his bright, singsong stage voice.

After the first rattata, Sparks and the others had found a few more, all similar in mutation leading the professor to believe one of two things. Either there was a sickness, or someone was doing it on purpose. The decision to go public had been made and a script pulled together. They had worked on it together, James and the professor, heading back to Professor Willow's apartment to write it over dinner and beer and Jessie's progression to her second Top Co-Ordinator title. It had been a little tense at times, occasionally the professor would stare at James or his tattoo, and an involuntary blush would creep up on James at the intensity of Willow's interest. He had been tempted to show Willow, but that would mean taking his shirt off. The idea made him warm in a way he had never felt all the years he'd been with Jessie. But then, the professor was nothing like Jessie.

The professor was getting to the good bit of the script. Up to now, he was sitting in his wheelchair, but that was about to change.

"Whatever this is, we need to discover the cause before it's too late. But you're not out there alone. My research leaders, Blanche, Candela, and Spark, are out there with you." Professor Willow stood up and walked towards the camera. He crouched forward as he always did. "And I'll be there too. See you in the field soon, guys!"

Professor Willow winked and saluted at the screen. A cheer came up from the production crew. People crowded him, telling him that was his best vlog ever.

"So cool," Ash whispered.

"So, what did you think?" Professor Willow asked as he came over.

On James's shoulder, Pikachu squeaked at Professor Willow as he turned his attention to the little Pokѐmon. There were hundreds of things James wanted to say but was tongue-tied in front of the professor. He tried to find something to say while being overwhelmed by the very maleness of Professor Willow and his proximity. James was saved by saying something ridiculous and obvious by Ralts racing in as the doors were open when the production crew moved out of the set. With a high-pitched scream, the little thing launched off the ground and knocked Pikachu off James's shoulder. Ash caught Pikachu and Ralts shouted at them both.

"Wow, is he your new Pokémon, James?" Ash asked, cradling Pikachu to his chest.

"Ralts is a she," James replied. He winced as she used his hair to hold on to as she shouted at Pikachu. "And no, she's not mine."

"But isn't she taken with you," Professor Willow mused. "That's what happens when you serenade them."

"I can't have her doing this every time someone comes near me," James complained.

"It's the first time she's done it. Maybe it's just unfamiliar Pokémon or she'd attack Weezing every time you tried to feed him," Professor Willow said. He turned to Ash. "It's been a while, Ash. What are you doing here?"

Ash opened his mouth, then stuttered. "I'm meeting James for dinner?"

"We can go to the cafeteria together," the professor said. "If that’s ok?"

"Yes, sir." Ash beamed as if the professor was some legendary Pokémon.

"Great, you can tell me how you met James. He's very quiet about his past."

Not what James wanted. He wanted to get away from Ash who might start telling stories of all the other Pokémon James had had who were too fond of him and displayed their fondness by eating him, or poisoning him, or attacking him in some way.

Ash and James exchanged a look. James shook his head and Ash nodded. As understanding as he was, James didn't think Professor Willow would forgive his Team Rocket associations. As he left, he untied his hair. He could feel the bumps and tugs where the Pokémon had held it with their little paws. He shook his head, letting his hair fall free before retying it in a bun and hiding it under his beanie. Yes, he could cut it all off, but then he'd look like his father. It was bad enough they shared a name.

"So, Professor. You think it was a good idea to tell everyone about the rattatas?" Ash asked. "I mean, you're not worried someone's doing it on purpose and you've just told them you know."

Ash was still short and was forced to almost run after Professor Willow as strode through the campus to the cafeteria. Professor Willow stopped and Ash almost crashed into the back of him.

"Like who, Team Rocket?" the professor asked with a smile.

Ash laughed overly long and loud. Professor Willow frowned, folding his arms and watching Ash's performance. James had an overwhelming desire to wet himself.

"I think you've had enough sugar for one day," the professor said when Ash had finished. "No one’s even heard from Team Rocket since Chase and Eevee chased them out of Silph Co. It could be some new organisation, though, or maybe some of them who had gone underground. Going public was a calculated risk I talked through with Professor Oak before doing it. I am the most well-known of all the professors. If there is another group, we've given them a famous face to launch their platform from. And if not, I've got tons of people out there studying rattatas."

"So, everyone wins?" Ash asked.

"Got it in one. How do you know James?"

"We met while I was out on the road to the Indigo League," Ash said.

"I didn't think you did that, James," Professor Willow said looking over his shoulder to James.

"Oh, I never said he was on the road," Ash corrected. "That's just where we met. We didn't really get on until we met at his house."

"Why?" The professor interrupted so sharply both Ash and James took a step back.

"Because his parents are shallow and egotistical, and James isn't any of those things. I felt sorry for him that he'd grown up in that sort of isolation."

"What sort of isolation?"

"That's enough about me," James interrupted.

Professor Willow put his arm around James's shoulders and leant on the back of him.

"Not in the least," the professor purred in his ear. "What sort of isolation?"

"Well, the affluent, entitled kind. His parents are the Kanto Montgomery's," Ash blabbered on.

James shivered. Professor Willow was taller, so he covered James, resting his chin on James's shoulder. Each word tickled James's ear and the professor smelt so good it took every inch of self-control for James not to turn into him and inhale deeply.

"The Kanto Montgomery's." Professor Willow's tone turned James's shiver to a cringe. "I'm not surprised you kept that one to yourself."

The professor patted James on the shoulder and let him go, leaving him cold and regretful, and a little confused. Ash, on the other hand, was still grinning.

"He is so amazing," he said.

A sentiment echoed by all the students and some of the teachers in the cafeteria. Professor Willow walked in still wearing his vlog costume and everyone erupted into cheers. The vlog was already running on the large screens. Professor Willow spread his arms wide and bowed.

"Thank you, everyone, for looking after me so well while I've been recovering. It does sadden me to leave, but my heart is out there. However," Professor Willow paused for a moment, "I expect to see all of you out there with me and when I do, the first beer is on me."

James stood in the queue for food which went down dramatically as the professor walked around the cafeteria, greeting people and having selfies taken with them, and Ash found an empty table. The professor was still having photo’s taken when James joined Ash at the table. "

Did I say anything wrong? Didn't he know who your parents were?" Ash asked.

"Would you tell everyone if they were your parents?" James asked.

"I guess not. Have you seen them since you came back?”

“No, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot. They still have Growlie.”

“Who’s Growlie?" Professor Willow asked, sitting down at the table.

"Are you going to miss all this when you're back out there?" James asked. "People looking at me all day asking for selfies and autographs? No. And don't ignore my question."

James squirmed. One personal question would lead to another and another, and before he knew it, James would be doing his old introduction on a table using a pink scarf to do all Jessie's parts. But Willow leaned forward on the table, eyes locked with James. James wasn't getting out of this.

"My parents. I have a growlithe at home and I always regret not taking him with me," James said, giving in.

"Then go and get him."

"Have you met his parents?" Ash asked.

"I have."

"You have?" James and Ash asked together.

"Fund raisers. We always get more money if I turn up to them," Willow replied, starting to eat.

James grunted. Fund raisers would be exactly the sort of thing they would turn up to, not because they believed in the cause but because of their raging FOMO.

"How about I go with you," Willow offered. "I can hold your hand."

"That would be great," James lied.

Later, as afternoon drifted to evening and all the other students had left, Professor Willow called James into his borrowed office which was already showing signs of being packed away. James went over their conversation with Ash wondering what slip he had made that had given him away, He didn't think he'd done anything wrong, but a lifetime of being blamed for everything, first by his parents and then by Jessie and Meowth, had left James with permanent guilt for things he hadn't done. When they were both sitting, Professor Willow put a data tablet in front of James.

"Well, the summer term is over. You've handed in your thesis, your personal references have come back, all glowing, and here." Professor Willow pushed the tablet a little closer to him. "Here is your final grade."

James's stomach sank. He'd failed and Professor Willow was letting him slink away with some dignity. He stared at the tablet, refusing to touch it.

"Don't you want to know?" the professor asked.

"No. Thank you. I'll just pack," James said.

"What do you think you got?"

"The worst score in the history of the university. It's what I got at Pokѐmon Tech."

Professor Willow laughed then covered his mouth. He went red with the effort of holding back his mirth. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have laughed," he said when he had composed himself.

"Um, no. You didn't get the worst score in the university's history. Mr James Montgomery, may I be the first to congratulate you on finishing your degree with a first with honours. The highest result of this year. I can tell you where you stand in the history of the university if you want."

James couldn't answer. His ears were buzzing, a high-pitched whine that blocked everything out. His stomach was jelly, insubstantial, uncontrollable, fluid and threatening to leak out of him. He blinked and something hit his cheeks. Tears. He was crying and his cheeks were so hot they stung. Professor Willow came around the desk and offered his hand.

"Congratulations," he said in a husky voice. James took his hand and shook it, limply, going through the motions, still floundering in disbelief.

"I did it?" James asked.

"You did it," the professor confirmed. James jumped to his feet and hugged Professor Willow. The professor hugged him back, no hesitation, just the same encouragement he had always given James. Which only brought home James had finished now. His time with Professor Willow was solely as a student getting experience while finishing his degree.

"Is this you saying goodbye?" he asked, pulling back from the professor. "Because I'm done now, aren't I? And you're leaving again. So, this is-"

“Well, that depends,” Willow said, leaning back on his desk and putting his hands in his pockets. “I’d like you to stay with us. You fitted in well with the team, you have some great ideas. Having you in the field with me will really benefit the work we’re doing. Of course, Kukui will say the same thing and he’ll get a copy of your results through, so he will be expecting you.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” James said, laughing with relief. “He said there was a place for me if I couldn’t find a research programme to join. I can stay if you want me to.”

“So, that wasn’t part of the agreement, Kukui sponsors you and when you’ve finished you work with him?”

“No.”

“Son of a bitch,” Willow muttered.

“Is there a problem?” James asked.

“Not with you. No, it’s just Kukui playing silly buggers with me. He likes to play tricks on me because he blames me for something that wasn’t my fault.” Willow shook himself. “So, you’ll stay then?”

James hesitated. The answer was yes, but the reason was not just because Professor Willow was outstanding in his field or the career prospects a year with him would give James later on. That was part of it, certainly, and the rest of it was made up of the fact that James was utterly smitten by this charming professor and would do anything he asked just to be near him. Decision-making like that was how he ended up in Team Rocket. Only Willow wasn’t Giovanni. Willow would never smile at James the way he wanted, after all, Willow’s award-winning smile was freely given to anyone who spoke to him, but at least James would be in his presence to admire him at arms-length.

“Yes, I’ll stay with you,” James said. “If you can get the funding.”

“Let me worry about that. Let’s go for dinner to celebrate.”


	6. Chapter 6

The best thing about Professor Willow was his complete focus in a task. The preparations for him to leave were in full swing so it took very little to distract him from promising to go with James to meet his parents. In fact, all it took was a suggestion that there was an issue with the mobile Pokémon regenerator and Professor Willow left the lab in a swirl of his white lab coat. James felt a little guilty for lying to him. He left it ten minutes then grabbed his coat and headed to the car park.

If they were going out in the field, James didn’t know how long they’d be gone for. Weezing was old and was starting to float closer and closer to the ground. As much as James wanted to take him, it wasn’t fair on the old Pokémon. However, the tutors in the Pokémon Medicine section had agreed to look after him until the inevitable. That made James sad, he didn’t want to abandon Weezing, but it was what was best for the Pokémon, not James, that mattered. He still needed to make things right for Growlie though. James got into his car and started the engine as the passenger door opened and Willow got in.

"Do I look like I was born this morning?" the professor asked.

"Um, no," James said.

"Then why did you think you could sneak back to your parents without me?"

"How did you know?"

"You're a shocking liar. Get going, we do still have packing to do." Willow tapped the dashboard with too much enthusiasm for someone about to meet James's parents. Then he stopped and looked sharply at James. "Or did you not want me to meet them?" 

"You have met my parents in other forums, haven't you?" James asked.

"Yes."

"Then you know why I don't want you to meet them. My parents and me, we disagree on lots of things."

"So, why are we going back?"

"If I'm going out again, I want to get my Pokѐmon."

“This Growlie?"

"Yes." James gripped the steering wheel tightly.

The house was as excessively large as James remembered. Ridiculous for a family of three. When James had been little there had been so many servants, he'd struggled to remember their names. He pulled up outside the house, ignored it entirely and headed straight for the Pokémon house.

"Is this, like, all one house?" Professor Willow asked.

“No, it’s two. This is the one we're after."

"That's your Pokémon's home?"

James took a step away from the door of the Pokémon house and examined them both. To him, the fact that the home for his growlithe was almost as big as his parent's house was completely normal. "

Even Montgomery Pokémon have standards to uphold," he replied.

James opened the door for the Pokémon house. He waited for the usual rush of Growlie and the licks and suffocation of orange fur. Instead, there was nothing.

"Growlie!" James shouted.

How long did growlithes and arcanines live for? Was it twenty years or longer? James had had Growlie for almost since birth which meant the Pokémon was as almost old as James. Growlithes needed to live over thirty years for James not to be wracked with guilt forever.

"Growlie," he shouted again, running into the house.

But the signs were everywhere. The furniture was covered in sheets and dust covered the surfaces. Curtains were closed and the air was stale. He ran to the kitchen. Growlie's food and water bowls were on the side covered in dust.

"Oh no," he whispered.

He was too late. All that time hiding from his parents and he had lost the first being that ever cared about him. And what was he hiding from? He walked away from his parents plenty of times in the past no matter what mind games they’d played on him. He should have left with Growlie, not left him behind.

Professor Willow stood in the kitchen door and James wiped the tears from his cheek.

"James. Is this?" the professor started and put one hand on James's shoulder.

With his other hand, Professor Willow presented James with a battered pokѐball. James reached for the ball but couldn't take it. The light was on but that didn't mean Growlie was OK in there. What if when he opened it, his dead Pokémon appeared on the floor.

"I'll do it," Professor Willow said as if he could read James's thoughts. The professor pressed the button on the ball and the ball sprung open. A spot on the floor glowed and a growlithe shaped form appeared on the floor. Unmoving. Dead or asleep. And the moment of not knowing one way or another went on forever.

Then Growlie yawned and stretched.

If Professor Willow hadn't been behind him, James would have hit the floor, his knees failing under the strength of relief. Instead of the floor, the professor caught him, placing his hand over James's chest, keeping him upright.

Standing, Growlie yawned again and shook his head, before looking around the room. He saw James and grunted. Crouching, James held out his hand to Growlie. It had been over ten years since they had last met. How different must James look now? The little Pokémon bumped his wet nose against James's hand, sniffing. At first, his tail low down to the ground, but the more sniffed, the harder his tail wagged until he barked and jumped at James. James fell back into the professor and they all ended up on the ground, smothered under an orange ball fluff and licks.

"Hey, boy," James laughed. "I missed you too."

He wrapped his arms around Growlie, rubbing his face in his soft fur.

"James." Professor Willow tapped him on the shoulder. "Let me up."

The professor's tone was pained, and James remembered his leg. Standing, holding Growlie back with one hand, James helped him stand. The professor leaned half on a kitchen counter, half on James, his face white and jaw clenched.

"Please don't tell anyone about this," the professor asked.

"I won't," James promised as Growlie bounded around their feet.

"Well, well, well. So, it is you after all," said a woman in the kitchen doorway and James winced.

"Hello, Mother," he replied.

"And you've bought a friend, how delightful," she purred. "Do I know you? You look familiar."

His mother hadn't changed. Tall and slim, with elfin like features and large eyes, James's mother was an intimidatingly pretty woman. She barely looked any older than the last time they had met, and her dress sense still tended towards the dramatic. Her off the shoulder, her floor-length dress was perfect for a black-tie event, not staying around the house, but that was James's parents. Perfection at all times.

"Professor Willow, Mrs Montgomery. We've met at a few charity events," Professor Willow said, holding his hand out.

"Oh, of course! The one who does all those videos," she exclaimed, ignoring his hand. "Well, James, I must say, I am impressed. When you turned down Jessebelle, your father and I were a little concerned at what you'd bring home. Male or female, we didn't care, we just didn't want you to embarrassment on the family. The famous Pokémon Professor is perfect."

"Mother," James groaned. “It isn’t like that.”

"You simply must come into the house and take tea with us." James's mother linked arms with Professor Willow and half-dragged him out of the kitchen. "You are very tall. And skinny. You wear so many layers on those videos one cannot see just how skinny you are. Come along, James. Do not dawdle."

"I see nothing's changed," James said to Growlie. "Come on, boy. Let's go and rescue him.”

Nothing in the human part of the house had changed either. James followed the sound of his mother's excessive jubilation to their favoured sitting room. His father was equally as overdressed as his mother, and just as youthful considering how old he must be. He was shaking Professor Willow's hand and welcoming him to the family without letting the professor speak.

"Father, enough," James said as he came in. "You're embarrassing Professor Willow."

"Oh, James. As boring as ever," his father said. "Come and join us and stop picking fault in everything we do."

"I just came for Growlie."

"Well, that is gratitude for you." His father sat back down, throwing his hands in the air. "We give you everything you want without asking for much from you in return, and you don't even come and say hello."

"You wanted me to marry that woman and be a perfect accessory for your lifestyle," James reminded them.

"And you have done neither, but we haven't cut you off. Sometimes, James, you are so self-centred I'm surprised you recognise there are other people in the world." His mother delivered her truth-bomb in her usual singsong manner as if discussing a marvellous new hat she had bought.

She sounded so reasonable as if James was selfish for taking everything from them and doing nothing they asked for in return, but that wasn't it. His parents had had a child to complete their look. They let James do whatever he wanted because it made them look good. He still had access to the family funds because no son of theirs would ever struggle. There were no boundaries for him to work to, so if he wanted to drink soda until he exploded to collect the caps, then that was OK. But it wasn't OK. Children craved routine and structure. They didn't want things; they wanted their parent's attention. James didn't need their financial support; he needed their emotional support. But that was never going to happen. He had realised that at a very young age, but that didn't mean he enjoyed the reminders that he needed to forge the support network he needed by himself.

"We have to go now," he said, choosing not to argue with them. "The professor is returning to the field and we have to get his equipment ready."

"Ooh, and what will you be doing when that happens?" his mother asked.

"James is coming with me," Professor Willow said. "He is an invaluable part of my team."

"I'm sure he is, my good professor," his father aid with a wink.

"Thank you for the tea." James turned to leave. "We'll be sure to pop round again when we're back."

"You do that, darling. Goodbye!" his mother called after him.

Growlie trotted after James, playfully nipping at his heels. At the car, James let Growlie in then wound the window down for him. Professor Willow came walking a little slower. When he got in the car, he pulled his painkillers from his pocket and took some.

"Did I do that when I fell on you?" James asked. "Tell you what, I won't hold it against you if you don't run away from me just because I have your parents' approval," the professor said.

"Oh, I would never do that to you," James replied. Professor Willow smiled and leaned back in the car. He appeared to fall asleep. Growlie stuck his head out the window and yapped at passing cars as James drove them back to the university.


	7. Chapter 7

The lab was deserted when James arrived in the morning, Growlie still bouncing around his feet, so he went down to the garage where the two-man research van was waiting. It appeared as though the work was done; all the equipment was stored away and only two boxes and a suitcase were left outside. Professor Willow was in the middle of a group of interns, looking at a tablet.

"OK, Sam. You'll take over from James as my main point of contact here. I've done a list of the different research programmes running at the moment and future ones due to start in the next six months. I'm only going out for a month this time, I wanted more but I didn't dare argue with Blissey."

This got a laugh from everyone.

"Keep working on your theories, any data you need while I'm out there, you all have my number, call me and I'll make it happen. And finally, thank you for putting up with my temper while I've been here. I guess I just wasn't built to sit still."

Another laugh. That was when the professor saw James and he disentangled himself from the others.

"Are you all packed?" Willow asked him.

"Nearly," James lied, thinking about how few personal possessions he actually had and he easy it would be to throw them into a bag.

"Great. I have a final appointment with my physio just after lunch, so as soon as that's done, I want to hit the road. Can you be ready in that time?"

"Sure. I'll bring Growlie with me. Weezing is already in the Pokѐcenter."

"Are you coming?" Professor Willow turned to Growlie. "Are you? Are you coming with us?"

The Pokémon bounced up between them, licking their faces and barking, getting more and more excited as Professor Willow teased him. The noise was so loud, everyone stopped what they were doing and watched. Over the barking and teasing, James heard a high pitched keen. People were pushed out of the way by something down by their knees and a white and green blur hurtled towards them.

Ralts threw herself at Growlie and knocked him to the floor. James's first thought was to protect the professor. If he fell again, if someone else saw that his leg wasn't completely better, the expedition would be delayed. He stood in front of Professor Willow as the two Pokémon rolled and fought in front of him, but a bump knocked him backwards and sent the professor into the side of the research vehicle. Professor Willow hissed and grabbed James's shoulder. Risking injury, James got in between the two of them and pulled them apart.

"Ralts, enough," he said. He held the smaller Pokémon out in front of him while holding Growlie back with his knees. "Growlie's been with me since I was as little as you, he's almost as old as I am. So, you can't fight him, OK. Besides, I'm leaving with the professor. I don't want to go being angry with you."

Ralts squeaked at him. James understood the general message and brought the little thing closer in a hug. Ralts snuggled into him, smelling like candy floss and leaves.

"I will miss you too," James said. "But I will come back. I promise."

Ralts grew warm, vibrating in his hands. She grew heavier. She glowed. James held her at arms-length as the vibrating and glowing intensified. He had seen this before. Knew what was going to happen even as the little body in his hands changed shape.

"Oh, my," Professor Willow said as the light died down and James held a kirlia in his hands. "I guess she's coming with us too."

Kirlia made a noise that sounded suspiciously like she was blowing a raspberry at Growlie. Professor Willow's phone beeped, and he tore his eyes away from James and Kirla to look at it. His face paled.

"James, pack now. We're leaving this afternoon, regardless of what the physio says." "Why?" James asked. The professor showed him a picture on his phone.

It was of Spark next to a mass grave of rattatas.


	8. Chapter 8

The smell of thirty decaying rattatas was something James would never forget. Growlie took one sniff then crept off to Candela who was sitting on a rock, a tissue in her hand. He nuzzled into her arms and rested his head on her lap with a little whine.

"Oh hello, Handsome," Candela said sniffing. "Who are you?"

Growlie barked at her then lay his head back down.

"Well, thank you. I need some hugs right now," Candela said.

Professor Willow was talking to a detective from the Kanto Police Department. They exchanged contact details then the detective left. The professor stared for a moment at the hole and the pile of specimen bags the little bodies.

"OK," he addressed the whole team. "Only do this if you can. Gloves on, grab a bag and let's work on this. Candela, I want the lab sterilised and ready for the autopsies, and I want a labelling code. Let's get moving."

James got a pair of thick black gloves that came up to his elbows and a face mask. Professor Willow took the mask from James and tied it on for him.

"Was your friend right?" the professor asked. "Did I cause this by telling everyone what we knew?"

"I don't think we'd ever know. Not for certain," James said, his voice muffled by the mask. "What if this is just the dumping ground and the other ones we found were ones that got lost along the way? Would we have found this at all if someone hadn't seen your vlog and told Spark about this place?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

The professor put his hand on James's back. The contact sent shivers through James, a good kind that made him sad when Professor Willow removed his hand and followed Candela to the lab.

The rattatas were tiny, half-grown things. They'd had no life before they'd died of whatever has consumed their little bodies. James had left Team Rocket when Chase had defeated Giovanni before she faced the Elite Four and became Champion. He assumed it was all over and Team Rocket had disbanded but was it possible they hadn't, and these little purple bodies were their work. The idea repulsed him then drowned him with guilt he had ever been part of their number.

That emotion stung his eyes and kept him working when the other researchers needed to stop. He treated each body as gently as the first, respectful of what had passed, and when he handed the final one to Candela, she put it down and gave him a hug.

"Thank you for bringing the professor back to us," she said. "We couldn't have handled this without him. Or you."

"It's OK," James tried to smile.

"And thank you for lending me Growlie. He suits you. Loyal, brave, compassionate. I'm glad you're with us." Candela kissed him softly on the forehead.

"I need to go," James said before the tears stinging his eyes could fall. "I'm sweaty and sticky and stinky."

"I'll save you some food," she promised.

Each of the trailers had accommodation for two. Bunk beds built into the wall, a small wardrobe for both James and Professor Willow's clothes, and a bathroom that was little more than a shower cubicle and a toilet. With the professor still dissecting rattatas, James stripped off and threw everything on the floor, then got in the shower.

The trailer’s solar panels had been working all day, so the water was hard and hot, stabbing needles of burning accusation into his body. This was his fault. Even though there was no evidence any of this was Team Rocket's responsibility, there were other atrocities he could have stopped. He'd known who Giovanni was and said nothing. His weakness for recognition by an authority figure meant he had carried on following orders even though he knew they were morally wrong. Maybe if he had told someone rather than hiding to save himself, if Giovanni had had a big public trial rather than slipping away into the darkness, all those little lives wouldn't have been wasted.

Red caught his eye. His arm. Tattooed on his right inner arm was a large red rose, the stem extending down his arm. A work of art and a huge mistake. Or maybe not. Maybe James needed this constant reminder of where his weaknesses could lead him.

"James!" The trailer door opened, and the professor shouted inside. "Are you in here?"

"Just in the shower," James replied, wiping the tears from his face and turning the shower off.

He grabbed a towel, rubbed his hair, then tied it around his waist. Stepping out of the bathroom, he found the professor had cleaned his filthy clothes away and there was a plate covered in tinfoil and a steaming mug on the little table by the beds. The professor was stood in the trailer's open doorway, white coat gone and thrown on the ground outside, splattered in red and black stains James didn't want to ask about.

"I was filthy," James explained.

He kept his towel around his waisted and folded his arms to hide the tattoo.

"I'm sweaty," the professor replied. "And covered in innards. It is definitely manmade. Some bastard has deliberately done this, and it doesn't matter how many they kill, they're just keeping at it. Who can knowingly do that?"

James rubbed his arm.

"I need a shower," the professor continued. "I'll feel better then."

"Do you think it is Team Rocket?" James blurted.

"Yes, or another group made up from the members rebranded."

James's tattoo burnt. The professor put his cup down and began undressing, kicking his trainers off at the door and stripping. James turned his back, pretending to look through his clothes.

The shower started up again and all thoughts of tattoos and rattatas were banished by a new thought. This was not the first time they’d shared a trailer. Before the accident, they had shared all the time, the budget not stretching to individual sleeping arrangements. During that time, James had seen enough of Professor Willow that he didn’t struggle imaging him in the shower. The burn scar on his left bicep where Zapdos had caught him. A scar under his rips where a tauros had gored him. The one running down his leg where the doctors had operated on him.

Instead of getting ready, James stared at the wall knowing the professor was the other side, naked, water running over his hard body, blaming himself for what was happening. James wanted to make it better however the professor needed it. James’s breath hitched and he played with his hair considering all the ways he could relieve Professor Willow’s tension.

The water stopped and the door to the bathroom opened. James turned his back, embarrassed by his thoughts and his body’s reaction. After a moment, Professor Willow sighed and said,

"Look, I need to say something. It’s awkward, but I have to say something. Especially when we’re going to be sharing a trailer.”

James turned and looked down which was a mistake. The professor had put jeans on but not done them up. A trail of dark, damp hair started at his navel and travelled down below into his jeans. James refocused on the professor’s face, jaw clenched tightly to keep his face straight.

“I like you,” Willow said, then ran his fingers through his towel-dried hair. “I enjoy your company. You’re easy to talk to and funny. You’re clever, intuitive, compassionate and caring. You are one of the best people I know. And you are really, really, distracting. Especially when you’re not wearing a lot. Or I’m not wearing a lot.”

These words all meant some, particularly in the order Willow was speaking them. James didn’t want to reply in case he’d misunderstood and made the situation worse. Willow cleared his throat and stepped forward.

“I wanted you to stay because you are an asset to the team, but I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge there was a small amount of personal desire to keep you with me. I guess I just feel better when you’re with me.”

No, James wasn’t daydreaming, Professor Willow really was saying all the things James wanted to hear.

“It would be great if you said something about now,” Willow continued. “Even if it was ‘get away from me, you creepy perv’.”

“I like you too,” James blurted.

Professor Willow exhaled sharply. “Or you could say that. That’s good. Better than good.” He scratched his head. “I’ll be honest, I thought you’d say no, so I was prepped for looking for the new accommodation for one of us. Me probably, I wouldn’t want to kick you out when. I’m blathering. I’m just very conscious we’re not dressed, and you are exceptionally beautiful.”

James was violently flushing in the darkness of the trailer. No one had ever spoken to him like this before. Knowing how he looked was very different from hearing someone else value it. Professor Willow stepped closer. He smelt of shower water, damp hair, and that mineral gel he favoured. It was an intense mixture that made James’s heart thud so loud it reverberated around the trailer. The trailer that was getting warmer with every passing second.

James took a deep breath, chest aching painfully. Tension and desire mixed. It would be so easy for him to touch the professor and he knew where it would go. Touching would become caressing, kissing. The bed was less than two feet away. Morning would find him satisfied, ready to spend the rest of the day trawling through dead rattatas.

Caressing James’s cheek, Professor Willow took another step closer, their body head combining. Surrendering to this kind of authority was natural. He could make everything right with his actions. James closed his eyes anticipating the inevitable touch of lips.

He didn't have to tell anyone anything he didn't want to, that was what Kukui had told James when they'd first discussed James going to university. If James never uttered the words Team Rocket again, then that was fine. But he would know what secrets he’d kept. That the relationship Professor Willow thought they had would be false and James couldn’t keep secrets from people he cared about.

“Wait,” James said.

“Too soon?” Professor Willow asked, their mouths so close his breath tickled James’s face.

James offered his arm for Professor Willow’s inspection.

"That is beautiful." Professor Willow took James's arm, gentle, yet firm.

He straightened James's arm and examined the tattoo, tracing his fingers over it. Goosebumps broke out over James's body. Nerves and desire.

"When did you get it?" Willow asked. "Did it hurt?"

"I got it a long time ago," James said. "I was a kid, barely eighteen. Back when I worked for Team Rocket."

"That's not funny, James."

"I’m not joking, Edgar. But I left home young and naive, and I didn't know what they were."

James broke off with a yelp as Professor Willow's grip tightened. So many people had glared at James, full of hatred and disgust, he’d thought he was immune to it. He was wrong. He saw the contempt he held himself in reflected in Willow’s eyes. The professor pushed him away, sending James sprawling onto the bottom bunk.

"How could you do it? Work for them? They stole Pokѐmon, attacked people. And now they're doing this. How could you of all people been part of them?" Willow demanded.

There was no simple answer that Willow would accept. James didn't really have one for himself. The gangs he'd met when he'd left home had been free and that had been more attractive than regular food or a warm bed. Any attempt at an academic life had been met with failure. A lifetime of circumstances had brought him to that point, but it had never been the goal. Never been his aim.

But now knowing he’d lost Professor Willow’s respect, James realised he'd been searching for someone to care for him. Someone to value him. Team Rocket hadn't cared for him. Professor Willow and his team had shown him real affection. He sensed his past devouring his future and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"I was lonely," James said.

Professor Willow folded his arms which did nothing for James's concentration and robbed him of his tongue. Not normally the most eloquent, James stuttered even more. The professor shook his head. The professor put on a jumper and ran his fingers through his still-wet hair.

"Stay here," the professor ordered. "I need some space. I need to think about this."

"I should go."

"No. No. You don't get to do that. You ran away from your parents, you ran away from Team Rocket, but you sure as hell won't run away from me. Eat your dinner and put some clothes on. It's impossible to talk to you when you're looking like that."

Professor Willow stalked out of the trailer, slamming the door as he went. James did as he was told, redressing and eating his dinner, thinking over his options. He needed to make it right, even at the expense of his own safety. He left Professor Willow a message promising to return, then left the trailer, Growlie following close behind.


	9. Chapter 9

Professor Willow examined his reflection in the mirror and scowled at the man he saw.

"Bloody Oak. 'Go to a few events while you're in the town, Willow. Raise our profile. Get some funding,'" he sneered at himself. "When was the last time he had to put on a dinner jacket?"

From the hotel bed, Kirlia cooed her approval at him.

Turning back to his reflection, Willow practised smiling. People would request photos with him. The last time he'd worn this black dinner suit he'd had at least five marriage proposals. He had learnt to deal with them, a little joke, a compliment and a warm smile before moving on.

On the surface, Willow appeared as confident as ever. Inside, he was questioning everything. Willow's celebrity status made him suspicious of people who wanted to get close to him. He'd thought himself a good judge of character after years of distinguishing those who only wanted to be friends with him because of what he was rather than who he was. But James had seemed different and come with recommendations from people Willow had trusted. Had Kukui known when he'd sponsored James? And what about Ash and Chase? Not only had they vouched for James, but they had trusted him with their Pokѐmon. Did they not know, or had they known but believed James had moved on from his criminal past?

"Why is everything so difficult?" he asked out loud.

"Kirlia," Kirlia replied.

She held her arms out to him and Willow picked her up, holding her close regardless of the potential creases his suit would get. Her candy floss scent reminded him of James. This type of Pokѐmon was renowned for knowing the purity of their trainer and protecting with everything they had. She had evolved for James What did that mean?

Willow put Kirlia down then wriggled his fingers as if he could shake off his pent-up energy and tried again to straighten his bow tie. No matter how many times he put the suit on, he could never get the tie right. And tonight wasn't going to be the night he mastered the art either. He'd have to ring Blanche and ask her to do it.

Even reaching for his phone to call her made Willow think about James. The last two events, James had been there and had easily sorted his tie as if he'd been doing it from birth. As painful as it would be, Willow needed to see James again because there was so much left unsaid between them and it was not part of Willow's nature. He needed answers, a resolution. Hearing James confess he felt the same as Willow had been the perfect ending to a shitty day. Finding that his ideal partner came with such criminal history, that he had hidden so much so well when Willow had thought him transparent, had rocked Willow to the core. He was insubstantial as his reflection.

All thoughts of James were banished when someone knocked on the door.

"Room service," someone called, their voice muffled.

"I haven't ordered," Willow said opening the door.

James stood in the corridor in the most expensive tuxedo Willow had ever been in the presence of. James was so immaculate, Willow was silenced for a moment.

"C-Come in," he said when he regained control of his tongue.

James entered the room, Growlie trotting at his feet, and Willow closed the door behind them. Kirlia jumped in James's arms. They didn't speak for a moment, so many things Willow wanted to say, and none seemed to convey just how happy Willow was to see James at that moment even as he was filled with hate for the confidence James had robbed Willow of.

"Your tie is wrong," James said, breaking the silence.

"You know I'm not very good at these things."

"Let me," James offered.

Willow tensed as James put Kirlia down approached to him. A week without his company and Willow had not forgotten just how stunning James was with his elfin like features, so similar to his mother in that respect. It was fortunate James had picked up very little else from her.

They were so close, James's breath tickled Willow's neck. James's long fingers ran over the black silk, smoothing, folding, shaping. He was touching the tie, but Willow felt it in the pit of his stomach as if James was stroking him there, and Willow's core rushed south. The whole situation was made worse because even as Willow took in every small change in James, that he was clean shaved, the shortness of his hair, a fading bruise on his jawline, it appeared James was focusing solely on Willow's tie.

When James stepped back, Willow released the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"Kanto Montgomery's need to be good at everything," Willow said.

"One must always look the part," James agreed. He scrutinised the professor's appearance for a minute. "You look good."

"You ran away after I told you to stay."

Willow moved away, creating distance between them. He might look good, but James was something else. Poised and elegant, Willow was acutely aware of a class difference them that even visiting James's family home hadn't highlighted.

"I could get you information no one else could. Help you put an end to all this sooner. Isn't that worth it?" James asked.

"How can I trust any information you bring me after all the lies you've told me?"

James flinched, and Willow regretted his words.

"I didn't tell you about what my past, but I never lied about who I was. I made a mistake, Edgar. Lots. But I am trying to make up for them."

Something about hearing his first name in James's voice broke through Willow's anger and frustration. James was remorseful. Whatever information he had; he'd been injured getting it. And he hadn’t run away. He'd come back.

"What information do you have?" Willow asked.

"You were right. Team Rocket is behind the changes to the rattata and they have plans to attack your Pokѐstops."

"But why?"

"Because you have authority. People look up to you. Giovanni doesn’t like people with more power than him."

Willow sat heavily on the bed, the ripples knocking Kirlia off the bed and onto Growlie. Willow tried to process the information James had given him.

“Giovanni?” he asked.

Giovanni had been the leader of Viridian Gym for a number of years before he retired to go back out on the training road again. They socialised in the same circles, most of the fundraising events Willow went to Giovanni would be there, he'd even hosted a few. Was James telling him that after all these years, that man was the head of Team Rocket?

Willow's stomach rolled. The world was in freefall. First James, now Giovanni. Did he actually know anyone? The people he surrounded himself with were based on their Pokémon knowledge and how the Pokémon who had followed Willow home reacted to them. What sort of stupid idea was that? James had destroyed the myth of his self-confidence with his simple statements. James worked for Team Rocket. Giovanni led Team Rocket. Kukui and Chase must have known and lied to him.

"He's on our mailing list," Willow whispered. "He has access to our reports before they're made public. Even the private ones where we need gym leaders to notify us of thing coming through the league. We've been feeding him how to get around us. Bastard."

"But now you know. You can change that now, can't you?"

Yes, it wouldn't be hard to falsify reports for Giovanni, but he couldn't just give Giovanni one report and everyone else the real one, because someone that cunning would check his reports, make sure he had the right information. And Willow couldn't tell many people, he couldn't guarantee they wouldn't let something slip. Everyone, including Willow, needed to treat Giovanni exactly the same as before. Willow took a deep breath, he would need to do all the reports himself, but he would need help by someone he trusted.

"How do I know I can trust you?" Willow asked.

James crouched, hitching up his trousers as he did. The move was distracting, drawing Willow's attention to the part of James's body that haunted Willow every time he closed his eyes. Willow focused on James's face, which was not much better.

"I didn't have to tell you who I was. But I did. If I didn't, it would be like nothing between us was real. And I really, really like you," James said.

Willow took a deep breath, heart thudding painfully. If he had been asked what he wanted James to say when they met again it couldn't have been more perfect. Simple, yet effective. Willow picked up the hexagon and turned it over in his hands, creating space that wasn't filled with emerald eyes and earnest affection.

“Was it him who hit you?” Willow asked.

"No, but he didn’t stop it," James said. "He ordered me back to you. To spy. But I'm still on your side. I brought you these."

From inside his jacket, James produced a hexagon device. Willow just stared at it until James put it by his side on the bed. Then James gave him a small bag of purple striped candies.

"They're breeding Pokémon, then feeding these candies to the babies as soon as they're born. At first, the babies couldn't handle it, but they've bred from those that did and now they have a mini-army of shadow Pokémon."

"Shadow Pokémon?"

"That's what Giovanni calls them."

Willow turned the hexagon over in his hands

"I reckon when I pull this apart in the lab, I’ll get more data. Same for these candies. Thank you. These will be useful. So," Willow cleared his throat. "Giovanni wants you to spy on me. Is that why the suit?"

James nodded.

"Does he know how I feel about you?"

"Oh no. He thinks you're just after my money."

There was no quick answer to that. It would be a lie to say that James's wealth hadn't occurred to Willow as a potential funding source, but it wasn't important, not compared to the person. James's expression fell at Willow's hesitation and it was he who truly created distance between them by standing up and moving away to the windowsill.

"I will stay to help you through this, then I'll go to Kukui," James said.

And like that, whatever had been there between them was gone. Maybe it was for the best. Willow had no intention of staying in an office but life on the road didn't suit everyone.

"I'll go down to the fundraiser first and you can follow me in a little while, yes?" Willow said, standing and straightening his jacket.

James nodded, head turned to the window. It was crippling how much that hurt.


	10. Chapter 10

All Willow's training came into play as he entered the fund raiser which was held in the hotel's banquet room. Fortunately, this was not a sit-down meal, food stations were positioned around the room. Blanche, Candela, and Spark were waiting for him dressed in evening wear. It was the smartest he'd ever seen them, except Blanche who kept herself organised and well-kept all the time. It helped her focus, she said. They were tense, and terrible at hiding it. Spark offered him a drink.

"You all look like you're at a funeral," Willow said taking the offered glass.

"James is here," Candela said.

"I know," he replied.

"Your tie is perfect," Blanche observed.

"Which is how I know he's here."

"I thought he left us," Candela said.

"No, he was gathering information for me. He might have to go again later, but for now, he is back."

“I confess I didn’t see the need for him when you first brought him out," Blanche said. "But I understand now that we are better with him. He has something we do not which makes us more effective as a team. He is good for you.”

"Now is not the time, Blanche. Go and mingle. Make me look good."

Willow dismissed them. Willow sipped the champagne Spark had given him. If he had thought he'd kept his feelings hidden, Blanche’s comments had alleviated him that misconception. They would be even more confused when James left them. Hell, Willow was confused. `When James had crouched in front of him Willow's body had responded in a way that suggested it didn't care what James had done, it was willing to forgive everything. Was a person's past really as important as their actions in the present? Did James have to leave?

A heavy hand clamped down on Willow's shoulder.

"Professor. Fashionably late for a grand entrance," Giovanni boomed.

Willow turned to face the Team Rocket leader, his cheeks hurting already from forcing the smile on his face. In the emotional chaos that was James, Willow hadn't considered what he would do when he saw Giovanni. Punching him, though tempting, was out of the question. So was having him arrested, there was no firm evidence yet. But playing the fool, a fool who trusted James, that would get Willow everything he needed so he could both punch Giovanni and then have him arrested.

"Giovanni, I didn't know if you'd be here," Willow replied. "How are you?"

"Keeping busy, as always. But not as busy as you. How is your leg?"

"Well, I'll probably never run a hundred meters in thirty seconds again, but that could be my age as much as the break."

"Aye, age. Happens to us all, but don't put yourself down. You are still the most eligible bachelor in the room."

Giovanni was a snake. He smiled at Willow, a large confident man despite the difference in height and his suit was perfectly tailored to show off his attributes. His slicked-back hair was only just hiding his developing bald patch while Willow's hair, grey before his time, was still luxurious, easily styled and thick enough to hold his glasses on his head.

"Be careful, I might start thinking you're making a move on me," Willow said and laughed, forcing Giovanni to laugh too.

"I was a little concerned you might not make it. This rattata thing is still going on," Giovanni said.

Willow sipped his champagne to cover his disgust at the front of the man. Normally, Willow would have talked about it, grateful for a like-minded person to share his woes with. Now, he recognised it as the fishing expedition it was.

"Yes, but there haven't been any more found cases. Although we investigated someone using them for experimentation, we're re-examining our initial hypothesis that it is a genetic abnormality in a particular pack or region," Willow said, the lie tripping off his tongue.

"Really? And after your big announcement too."

"Without the help from all the followers, we might still be looking in the wrong direction. I don't mind asking for help and being wrong. Rather that than deaths because I didn't want to lose face."

"And that is why you're the face of the professors rather than the old men in white coats."

"Exactly. Would you excuse me please, Giovanni?"

"Of course, Professor. We can catch up once you've been screamed at by the fangirls."

"It's a hard life, but someone has to do it," Willow replied.

He needed a shower after talking to that man. Instead, Willow homed in on a group of socialites who were doing a poor job of taking secret photographs of him, going through the motions expected of him like ticking chores off a To-Do list.

He spread the lie about the rattatas dying through a genetic issue as far as he could using actual research data to make his case. Although he hadn’t discussed it with his researchers beforehand, each of them picked up on his steer and spread the theory whenever they were asked about it. Willow looked forward to the time when he could tell them exactly what was going on and why he had kept so much from them. Like James.

"So, you truly believe that?" Giovanni asked. "That its evolution gone wrong?"

Willow broke from his revelation that his behaviour was not that dissimilar to James, to focus on the oily creep who had found him again.

"We shouldn't be so naive as to think we're the only ones who can evolve or that Pokémon can only evolve into their second or third-gen forms,” Willow said. “Our tests have demonstrated heightened testosterone, harder claws and denser bone structure. All things we would find in top predators. But they seem to have not developed the component that allows for more effective absorption of nutrients. Or at least, the ones we found hadn't. But it's not impossible for them to have made another evolutionary jump to prevent the annihilation of their pack. In fact, I'm sure I read something about this happening with Zubat in the Hoenn region when I did my PhD. I'm sure I can find it if you want to read it, Giovanni. It goes well with another essay about the evolutional benefits of Magikarp being useless in its first-generation form. I have that one in my digital library, I'll email it over now."

Willow found his phone and made a great show of searching for the paper. Giovanni's smooth mask froze in the panic of a non-academic caught in a conversation they didn't understand and had no interest in pursuing. It was a petty victory, but one Willow wanted. Needed. While Giovanni considered him a pathetic academic, then Willow wasn't a threat.

"I'm sorry, Professor, there's someone I need to speak with. Excuse me," Giovanni said and moved away.

"Do you really believe that?" Candela asked when they were alone.

"That the two articles work together? Definitely."

He smiled, it was his practised and perfected public smile, and each of his researchers knew what it meant. They backed off. He would tell them when there was time. Until then, they would have to trust him.

There was a commotion at the door. The ripple spread from the entrance across the room to Willow and his breath caught in his throat.

From across the room, James's bruise wasn't visible, but anyone closer would see and that he came in so proud was, even more, a testimony to the self-confidence he seemed to have an abundance of. Growlie strutted by his side, every inch the rich socialite's Pokѐmon. All Willow could think was that mistakes could be forgiven, and money wasn't important, James's smile was all that mattered.

James entered the room with the ease of someone who had been doing this for years. If Willow checked the social pages from twenty years ago, would he find a young James standing by his parents' side, already schooled in how to behave in polite society?

"I stand corrected, Professor," Giovanni said, returning to his side. "He is the most eligible bachelor here. James Montgomery the Third of Kanto. Young, handsome, wealthy beyond imagination, and I believe he has recently finished his degree opening up the world of academia. Is there no end to his assets?"

"You know him?" Willow asked, needing to talk so he didn't beat Giovanni in front of everyone.

"Oh, I could never claim to be so close to such social royalty. At best, I am acquainted with his parents through functions like this." Giovanni oozed. He disgusted Willow. "Unlike you, of course. He worked for you, or is that works?"

Willow shrugged as if bored by the conversation. "I am uncertain myself. When you have the world at your feet, making decisions fast isn't something you need to worry about."

"Nor the stipulations on the invite."

"Pardon?" Giovanni gestured at Growlie.

James had stopped one of the servers and was feeding him entrees straight from the tray.

"The invitation specified no Pokѐmon and yet there he is, cloaked in the arrogance of the super-rich, has brought his Pokѐmon into the venue, is feeding it food in front of everyone and no one is challenging him."

Again, Willow shrugged. "I didn't organise this. I'm not going to tell him. Besides, it is a fundraiser for Pokѐmon research. To ban them from the event is counter-productive."

"Of course."

Willow wanted an excuse to leave but was prevented as James saw them and made his way over to them. James's confidence floored Willow. He had always known that James was a strong personality, good-natured, charming, friendly, but this side of him, a member of the 'super-rich' elite was something else.

"Professor, forgive my lateness," James said. "Mr Giovanni."

"Mr Montgomery."

Hours of standing in front of cameras and attending functions like this gave Willow the tools he needed to keep his face straight. He was torn by his physical reaction to James standing like the poster boy for aspirational affluence and striking Giovanni there and then for taking advantage of James. The two emotions conflicted and cancelled each other out.

For his part, James appeared unruffled by the fact that he was stood between his past and his present or even the divide between the evil he had done and the good he was trying to do. It was Giovanni who excused himself first after making some polite conversation about the weather, James's degree and how well Growlie looked.

Not that Giovanni went far. He joined another group, positioned so that he could still see James and Willow. James took a sip from a champagne flute.

"I am sick to my stomach," he said around the glass.

Professor Willow stared at the young man in front of him. How many sides to James were there, and which was the real one? And James was so elite in his appearance right now it was like getting a compliment from a beautiful stranger.

"You can’t tell," Willow said. "Why did you bring Growlie?"

"Because I'd abandoned him for long enough." James knelt down and scratched Growlie's head. "I want to care for him better. I don't want to let him out of my sight."

James's attention switched from Willow to Growlie, and the Pokѐmon wagged his tail while still keeping his excitement under control. There was no arrogance in James's behaviour. As always, he was treating his Pokѐmon like a partner rather than a pet. Willow should have known better than to let Giovanni get under his skin.

"You look very different from the student I was first introduced to and no different at the same time," Willow observed.

James scrunched Growlie's fur for a moment longer before standing and straightening his suit. "It's a disguise. Like when you stand in front of the camera, you're different to the professor who comes back to his camp covered in mud with twigs in his hair because he was tracking a cutiefly across routes. I have always found the person you are when you're working the most like the man you are when we're alone."

"And you prefer that?"

"I guess I have always enjoyed confidence, and it is sexy when it comes from you."

Willow's face exploded with heat. "I'm blushing, aren't I?" he said.

James nodded with an off-handed shrug then sipped from his glass again.

"Are people watching us?"

"Everyone is." James reached into his suit's inner pocket and produced his phone. "In fact, Spark is texting me pictures someone's taken of us and put on social media sites." James's eyes raised an eyebrow and replaced his phone in his pocket. "There are some very inappropriate comments. People are fooled by your enamoured professor act."

"I don't know if it is an act," Willow admitted. James raised an eyebrow at him over the rim of his glass as he drank from it. "There is so much going on and I can't separate my stress from my confusion. Which is no good for you, I know."

"And I can only concentrate on what I have to do. I can't pretend to be too many people."

"Just, whatever else happens, don't leave without talking to me first?" Willow asked.

James inclined his head then moved away to talk to someone else. Willow was no closer to any answers, but at least he was certain of a way forward.


	11. Chapter 11

The candy machine in the lab was churning out candies so fast, the noise became something Willow only noticed when it stopped. He bent over the magnifier soldering a new circuit board to the stolen tech. The candies were the easy bit and now he was surrounded by tubes of them designed for the most common Pokémon to be distributed where and when needed. On that front, he was ready for action even if he had needed to threaten to sack the next person who called him Sugar Daddy. A man shouldn't have to tolerate that in his own camp. But the tech was proving trickier, mostly because he didn't have a full lab around him before.

Tinkering with tech was a necessity when out in the field. Sometimes things broke down or needing adapting and there wasn't always a lab nearby to fix things. Willow had to learn, or he would spend most of his time travelling. Now though, he thought he had it. It was, according to Sapphire, one of the third-year tech students in the field with him, a locator that was searching for a certain frequency. What that frequency represented, Sapphire couldn't say, but she was itching to find out.

To drone out the candy machine, Willow had earphones in listening to dance music. Because of this, it took Spark coming into his trailer and rapping his knuckles on Willow's desk. Willow pulled out the little earbuds.

"Yo, Sugar Daddy, check your emails," Spark said.

"Did you not get the memo about sacking the next time someone called me that?" Willow asked.

"Pfft. You love it really. Anyway, you’ve got an email."

"What is it?"

"Someone for the Sugar Daddy."

Willow threw a clipboard at Spark as he skipped back into the camp shouting, "Free candies for everyone!"

Willow picked up his phone and clicked on the email. A video had been sent to him from a trainer who had signed up to the remote research. At first, it wasn't clear what was going on, but then the video focused on a rattata with red eyes, smoke rising from its little purple body.

"They got it to work," he breathed.

The battle that followed was confused. The trainer who had sent the video was filming and battling at the same time. The shots jumped around but there was definitely a young woman in black ordering the rattata about. It didn't seem as if the rattata was listening but the moves it did perform appeared highly savage. The trainer won, but their vulpix was badly injured, and even though the young woman abandoned the rattata, the trainer was too concerned for their own Pokѐmon to consider catching it.

"Shame," Willow muttered. "Would have loved to get my hands on a live one."

Attached was also a report from a Pokѐmon centre about the injuries to the vulpix. It was a gruesome read but the bond between trainer and Pokѐmon was strong enough to keep it alive. The video was essential, and Willow sent copies to people who needed to know. He hesitated over sending it to Chase and James. He didn’t want to compromise James and he was still pissed at Chase.

There was a knock on the door and Sapphire came in.

"Professor. One of the Pokѐstops has been glitching on and off for a few days now. I'm gonna head out and look at it. Will you need me for anything?" she asked.

Between the video he'd received, and the tech James had brought back, it was all too much of a coincidence. Maybe he was wrong, but he'd rather be wrong than miss an opportunity.

"Do you mind if I come with you?" he asked.

"Do you think it's something to do with the rattatas?"

"Who knows," he said.

Grabbing some candies from the machine, his satchel and his phone, Willow headed for the door with Sapphire. James was with Candela, Growlie sitting at his feet and Kirla was perched on a bench near them. There was still too much left unsaid between them and Willow feared that even something as simple as goodbye would end in a conversation deeper than he had time for. Or the privacy for. Part of him still raged and Willow wasn’t sure he was capable of getting through the conversation without some shouting. He left without saying goodbye to any of them.

Sapphire drove. Willow took the passenger side. He turned the locator on and watched as the centre screen flashed silver then showed him a map of their area. A circle went from the centre out to the edges of the map without break. It was a locator, but for what? They were in the middle of nowhere, things would be so much clearer if they were in an urban location.

On his phone, he had the remote research app which told him where all the Pokѐstops were. He opened the app and compared the two. As they grew closer to their destination, the Pokѐstop appeared on Willow's app and the locater. They both flashed at the same time.

Pokѐstops were vending machines for gym challengers or researchers to replenish their stocks. All those who contributed to Willow's research were able to access the stops and their contents but there were always people who thought they could get the Pokѐballs and potions without putting in the effort. The technicians had made the stops very robust, supposedly tamper-proof, but that didn't stop people from trying.

The stop in question was at the edge of a Pokѐmon reserve. To discourage catching Pokémon in the reserve, the stop was filled with potions and revives, things to heal rather than things to catch. Sapphire stopped the car and Willow regarded the person in a hoodie standing in front of it. The blip on the locater tech changed. Before the pings representing Pokѐstops were blue. Now it was black. It had a different tone.

"Just act normal," Willow said.

Sapphire grabbed her tools from the back and headed over to the Pokѐstop. Willow followed a little slower, hoping he was not as recognisable in his jeans and a t-shirt.

"Hi," Sapphire said in a bright voice. "Is it not working properly? I've had an alert come through that it's acting up."

The person jumped back from the stop. Under the hoodie was a man, young, pale, nervous. He nodded and fidgeted as Sapphire pulled the cover off the side of the stop and began checking the circuitry inside. Willow leant against the stop and smiled at the young man, who did not smile back. Recognition dawned on the young man's face.

"Maybe it's your access card," Willow said, accepting there was no point in hiding who he was. "Can I check it? Make sure it hasn't been wiped."

"Good idea," Sapphire said. "Sometimes if you go through airport sensors or the ones at sporting venues and your card's next to something electronic, like your phone, it can make them all glitchy. You haven't been to Galar have you? The security systems for their tournaments really don't like those cards."

Under the pressure of the two of them, the young man took a step back.

"You do have a card, don't you?" Willow asked. "Because these stops are designed to only work for certain people."

"Certain people you've approved?" the young man said.

"Yes, I have to approve people, but I don't remember the last time I rejected an application."

"I don't need your approval to do anything."

"We seem to have gone off the point," Willow said. "Do you have your card, so I can make sure it's working properly?"

"Yeah, I have a card. Here it is." The young man handed over a card. It was black with a large red R on the front.

"I'm claiming this Pokѐstop for Team Rocket and there's nothing you can do about it." The young man reached into his hoodie pocket and brought out at a pokѐball.

He threw it at Willow. The ball burst open and a rattata appeared, red-eyed and smoking slightly as if burning from within. Willow took a step back. He knew what was happening, that the rattata was burning through its energy at an exponential rate. It was dying in front of his eyes.

"Quick attack," the man ordered.

The rattata hissed at Willow. Another ball whizzed through the air and a metang appeared between Willow and the rattata. The rattata dodged around the metang, too fast and gnashing its teeth in all directions as if the arrival of Sapphire’s metang confused it too much.

Although too close to the Pokémon battle, Willow's academic nature took over from the danger of his situation. The rattata had no fluidity of movement. It was jerky and clumsy as if it wasn't used to its own speed. The grunt shouted orders at it, but they were ignored as the rattata raced around Metang's feet dodging attacks.

"Rattata, Crunch," the Team Rocket grunt shouted.

This the rattata heard. It jumped up and bit Metang on the thin part of its leg.

"Move, Professor," Sapphire ordered.

He hadn't realised how close he was, so engrossed in studying the rattata. He was close enough to smell how different it was. He darted back behind her.

"Metang, flat," Sapphire said.

Willow didn’t recognise the move. Metang responded. It straightened its legs out to the side and crashed down to the ground, squishing the rattata still holding on. The rattata squeaked, then released Metang and lay still. Willow shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over the smaller Pokémon, pulling it out of danger and leaving Metang free to fight again if the Team Rocket agent had another Pokémon on him.

"You think you've won?" the grunt shouted. "You've won nothing. This is just the start."

"Metang, thunder punch," Sapphire ordered.

A short burst of electricity shot from the Pokѐmon to the grunt and sent him sprawling to the ground. Sapphire ran over with some plastic ties used for fastening cables together and secured his hands.

"Do you have a pokѐball?" Willow asked Sapphire as she returned to work on the stop.

"In the boot, I think."

Willow found three balls attached to a belt in the boot of Sapphire's car. He took one and pressed it to the unconscious Pokémon's face. The ball sprung open and absorbed the rattata. There was no resistance. The ball closed and the light came on. Now he had his Pokѐmon to study and the police had someone to work with. Putting the Pokѐball in his pocket, he made a call to the police.


	12. Chapter 12

A hum of excitement covered the camp. Something had happened. Something to do with whatever it was that had sent Willow running off with Sapphire without saying goodbye to anyone. James was certain the professor had called Blanche, she had spent a while talking to the other two. Whatever it was though, they hadn't seen fit to share their knowledge with James.

James moved to another part of the camp and made a phone call. Kukui picked up almost immediately.

"James, kid. How're you doing?" Kukui said.

"Fine, Professor. My work with Professor Willow is nearly done. As soon as it is, am I still OK to come out to you?" James asked.

"I thought you were staying with Edgar. Something happened?"

"I told him," was all James needed to say.

"Oh James, why?"

"What we're looking into. It felt wrong not to tell him."

On the other end of the phone, Kukui sighed. "Alright. I always thought you were too honest for your own good. There's a place waiting for you here when you're ready. And don't let him get you down. Edgar can be a little high and mighty at times, but he's also no saint. He'll either remember that or he won't. Not that it matters cos you'll be kicking it on a beach somewhere teaching trainers about mareanie venom."

"Sounds great. Speak to you later, Professor." James hung up as Candela came over.

"I assume he's OK," Candela said. "Pardon?" James asked looking at her vacantly for a minute.

"Professor Willow. I'm guessing that call was from him."

"Oh. No. It was Professor Kukui."

Candela's face fell.

"You're not leaving us, are you?" James tried to keep his face straight, but Candela stared at him so hard he looked away.

"You can't leave," she said. "I know the professor is being all funny at the moment, but he'll come around. He's just stressed. And he really likes you. He gets lonely sometimes, so focused. You remind him that he's still a person."

James shook his head. "There are some mistakes even Edgar can't forgive."

"That just proves you can't leave. No one else knows his first name, never mind uses it. James, you're one of us."

James chewed the inside of his mouth. He had thought it would be just the professor he would be leaving, but Candela was acting as if his absence would affect everyone. And what about Growlie bouncing around Spark who was always soft enough to give him a treat? It wasn't just James anymore. He was still ignoring Candela's pleading when his phone buzzed. It was Giovanni.

ALL HANDS

"Something important?" Candela asked.

"Something I shouldn't ignore. Not if I want to put the professor in a good mood," he replied. "I hope I won't be gone too long, but I can't be sure."

"Will this stop you leaving?" she asked.

James couldn't answer. It wasn't his decision to make, nor was he sure he would want if his past was such a sticking point. At least Kukui knew and didn't care.

"I'll be back in a bit," he said and called Growlie to his side.

Giovanni had locations everywhere but the one he summoned everyone to was a rural location with limited access. From the outside, it was a rather basic house with some innocuous-looking fencing around it. Only the house was a front and that it went on for three floors underneath and that the fences, although wooden had currents running through them for anyone stupid enough to touch them. There were also security cameras covering every area. No one was getting in unless Giovanni wanted them to.

James arrived with some other Team Rocket grunts. He had a plan. Keep a low profile, hang back towards the exit, and slip away when he had all the information he needed. They were all taken down to the first basement floor where there was a large conference room. James worked out where the stairs were and took a seat on the second to last row near the stairs. There was a stage at the front which was dark and there was a low hum of whispered speculation. A couple of people looked at James. He stood out, a man on his own when they are all sent out in couples. He ignored them, looking at his phone, waiting for Giovanni, Growlie curling around his feet.

At last, the lights in the conference room went down while the ones aimed at the stage lit up. Giovanni came on stage. There were applause and cheers which he basked in for a moment before raising his hands for silence.

"We have struck the first blow," he said.

More cheering. Giovanni had a controller in his hand. He pointed it at the wall behind him and a screen came down then a video came on. It was of a battle between a trainer with a vulpix and a grunt with a shadow rattata. The vulpix was mauled. James swallowed to stop vomiting.

"I have studied this battle, and though we lost, there is much to celebrate and learn from," Giovanni said. "Our brother went out with one Pokѐmon, one shadow rattata, and yet it took three of Willow's little lapdog's Pokѐmon to take them down. We have increased our shadow Pokѐmon base so each of you can go out with three. The next time you will win."

Interested, James leant forward. If he knew what Pokѐmon, he could tell Professor Willow which ones to prepare for.

"You must be ready," Giovanni continued. "This first attack was on our terms, but this second incident suggests that we cannot be complacent because the Pokѐstops are isolated."

The video changed to Sapphire and Professor Willow. At first, nothing happened, Sapphire began examining the Pokѐstop while Professor Willow stood with her, talking to the grunt. It all seemed quite amicable until the grunt produced a Pokѐball and threw it, releasing the rattata inside. James almost didn't see the battle for worry as Professor Willow was far too close to the fighting Pokémon.

"Unfortunately, the elitist snob got out of the way before he could be bitten. There will be a bonus if anyone gets a confirmed bite on the irritating busybody." Everyone laughed at Giovanni's offer. "The lesson here is our brother waited too long at the Pokѐstop giving the professor and his minion chance to arrive. For urban locations, if the virus from your tech hasn't done its job and opened the stops for you after the first attempt, then get out. You have a little more time in the countryside but don't push your luck. And do not get arrested. Our brother was made that mistake and now, we must say goodbye to him."

Standard procedure. If you were arrested, then you were on your own. James had run this risk every time he'd gone out, more than once he'd come close but somehow he, Jessie and Meowth had always gotten out of any scraps together. In this cesspit of evil, their absence panged his chest. He missed them though he doubted they even thought about him anymore.

"Now, I want everyone to go to floor B2 to get your Pokѐmon and get out there. Let's not give the professor chance to work out what he has. James, I want you to hang back."

James almost fell off his chair as Giovanni addressed him directly and everyone looked at him.

"James is our man on the inside. He is one of Willow's minions. James, I want to discuss what information I want you to feed him, so he's led around in circles."

James leaned back in his chair and saluted Giovanni, more confident than he felt. He wished he'd told Candela where he was really going. He wished he wasn't there at all. But he was there and if he could nod along to Giovanni convincingly then he could be back with his friends by the evening. James stay seated while everyone left. Giovanni remained on the platform and when they were alone, he gestured for James to come over.

"So, what does he know already?" Giovanni asked.

"Not a lot." James stalled for time, mind racing over how much truth to mix in with the lies. "He’s still looking into the rattatas being genetic mistakes."

"So, he hasn't seen the first footage?"

"I think so. He ran off from camp pretty quickly after getting an email." James shook his head. "I guessed something had happened, but he didn't say where he was going. Next time, I'll find out for definite and tell you."

Giovanni started walking off the platform and James followed him. There was a lift at the end of the room, a private one for Giovanni only. He pressed a button and they waited for the lift to come to them.

"That is excellent. If we can lead the professor around, he won't know what's happening until he's lost his legendary Pokѐmon to us," Giovanni said when the door opened.

"Professor Willow doesn't have any Pokѐmon. Not of his own. There are just some who follow him around, but he doesn't have any in balls."

Giovanni stepped into the lift.

"He may not, but his team leaders do. I want them. As a start."

The lift doors closed.

"You know, James, I'm glad you came back to me. I was a little worried I’d have to kidnap you.”

Giovanni laughed. James laughed even as his stomach twisted again. The lift doors opened, and they walked out.

"I mean, after all, you are James Montgomery the Third. A man who stands to inherit the largest fortune in the region. If not several regions. I didn’t want you getting too far away from me.”

Giovanni walked across the room to a large matt black desk and sat on the front of it. He folded his arms. James sensed the walls of a trap close in around him. Giovanni picked up a remote control from his desk and pressed a button. A screen came down and pictures of James appeared on it.

James in Hoenn with Jessie as she registered for the Co-Ordinator Leagues. James sitting to eat with Meowth picking the tastiest bits off his plate. James studying at Kanto University. Meeting Ash. The Professors' Conference where James met Willow. The day Professor Willow offered to take James into the field to finish his degree on the job. So many moments where James was alone with Professor Willow.

Detached and adrift from reality, James had the absurd notion he was spying on these men in the photos. He didn't recognise himself, confident, self-assured, unfazed by anything around him. There were two pictures that kept his attention; James stood in a clearing with Spark, Candela, and Blanche, and one from the night of the fundraiser. In both, he looked completely at home in his environment even though they were social worlds apart.

Giovanni selected one picture and made it bigger than the others. Professor Willow and James eating together. James remembered the moment. They had been so close, their heads tilted together, that James had quivered at being that near to Professor Willow in public. It was obvious to James that he loved Edgar Willow. And if it was obvious to James, then it was obvious to everyone else. Including Giovanni.

"So, does the professor realise just how important you are to him? You must have a lot of alone time in that trailer you both share. Has he touched you yet? Giovanni asked in a voice as smooth as silk.

"It isn’t like that," James said, backing towards the lift. "I’m just a research assistant."

"Of course, you are. And there’s no point running for the door, James. We're down here until I say otherwise. Now, we could go about this the long way, where I ask you what Willow knows or thinks he knows, and you resist me and we go round in circles until you eventually tell me everything I want to know. But I don’t really have the patience for that. So, let me show you my hand to convince you there is no point in trying to deceive me."

From the inside pocket of his suit, Giovanni produced a very old looking Pokѐball. He opened it then snatched as the Pokѐmon inside shot out. Meowth dangled in Giovanni's hand, caught by the scruff of his neck.

"Where am I?" Meowth shouted, twisting and turning, trying to escape.

"James, it's Giovanni. He put me in a ball. He put me in a Pokѐball, James. Help me."

Meowth twisted and bite Giovanni. The man let him go with a yell and Meowth ran to James. James reacted, moved forward arms open, but Growlie's scream stopped him. A persian was on top of Growlie, its claws digging into his Pokѐmon's back, pinning him down, drawing blood. Meowth reached for James as Giovanni opened the Pokѐball and summoned Meowth back inside. James caught a hint of Meowth's familiar scent before his friend vanished in white light.

"It would be safer for your growlithe if he was in his ball," Giovanni suggested.

James could only shrug. He didn't have Growlie's ball. It was back at the camp at the bottom of his bag where it would stay forever. Giovanni sighed and reached into his desk and pulled out a purple and pink Master ball. Growlie whined and fought, but the persian was too strong, keeping him down until Giovanni threw the ball, then it leapt to one side as Growlie was caught.

"And then there is this," Giovanni said, putting the two balls in his desk and pressed a button on his remote. The wall nearest James changed clarity, becoming see-through.

"No," James gasped.

Jessie was tied to a chair, her mouth gagged, and make-up streaked from tears of fury. Two grunts were with her looking as dishevelled as Jessie. She certainly hadn't been taken meekly.

"She has nothing to do with this," James said.

"But you brought her into this by spying on me for that man. Everything that happens to her is your fault, James.” Giovanni raised his hand to the grunts.

One of them approached Jessie with caution. She turned her head to the grunt, the scarf covering her mouth moving. James couldn't hear what she was saying, but he'd been on the receiving end of her frustration enough to recognise it being directed at another person. He didn't pity them though, this was a consequence of following someone like Giovanni. And he didn't pity Jessie. Not even when they held her down and bent her first finger all the way back, her body jolting, head thrown back in a scream he couldn't hear, when it broke. Because through her tears he saw her apocalyptic rage. Jessie didn't need his pity, she needed him to free her and then release her to take out her fury on her jailors.

"So, I have both of your Pokѐmon and your partner, and all three of them will suffer or not depending on your co-operation. Now, what exactly does the professor know?" Giovanni asked leaning forward.

He pitied Meowth though. The Pokѐmon had always hated being inside a ball. To force him in one, to trap him there, was the utmost cruelty. Hating himself, James started to talk.


	13. Chapter 13

The Pokѐmon centres near the outskirts of the city were the most stretched, so mobile units were set up on the roads between cities and towns. Willow had only grabbed a handful of hours sleep on the road, travelling from one to the other, talking to his researchers who had been attacked. Mostly, it was the Pokѐmon in need of medical attention, savaged by the shadow Pokѐmon, but sometimes their trainers needed help too. Every time he took a report from a researcher with a broken lip or savaged arm, slashed to ribbons from uncontrollable Pokѐmon, Willow felt the injuries on himself. But he couldn't stop going. These were his researchers, being punished because they were helping him.

Three days had passed since James had told Candela he would be back, and he was still missing. If people had been tiptoeing around him before, not wanting to talk about James, it was worse now. Candela was more demonstrative in her feelings, missing James as much as Willow was just for different reasons. It appeared Spark had forgotten how to laugh, and even Blanche had asked when he was coming back. Willow had no answers. He didn't want to admit he'd been deceived the first time, never mind a second.

He stepped out of a tent at one of the mobile centres and took a deep breath. His heart ached with James's absence, worse than before. He didn't know what was worse, the fear that one of these beaten researchers might be because of James or that one of them might be him.

His phone buzzed. Hope surged briefly until he read Oak’s name flashing on the screen.

"Professor?" Willow answered.

"Where are you?” Oak asked.

“Route Five.”

“Stay there. I’m coming with the Elite Four and our champion.”

“It’s fine,” Willow lied. “I don’t need help.”

“This is not a discussion. Your people are getting hurt out there and we’re coming to support you.”

"Fine," Willow said and hung up.

Willow crouched down on his haunches, running his hands through his hair. This was all such a mess and he wasn't sure what he'd done to warrant such violence. He just wanted people to understand the creatures who shared their world with them, to understand their impact on those creatures. How had that gone from people being beaten for getting free potions and Pokѐballs? If Oak was calling a conference, then it could be the end of Willow's widespread research programme.

Professor Oak arrived with Chase and Ash as well as the Elite Four, Lorelei, Bruno, Agatha and Lance. The Elite Four was bad enough, but there was also Wallace, the Top Co-Ordinator from the Hoenn region, and Professor Birch, another professor like Willow who preferred the outside to being surrounded by four walls.

Willow greeted everyone, keeping Chase for last. Had she known James's history when she had vouched for him? Had she lied to him, manipulated him, abused his trust in her?

"You look terrible, boy," Professor Oak said as he approached Willow.

"People who have volunteered to help me are getting attacked for no other reason than they took the time to fill out a form while these Team Rocket morons couldn't be bothered. I haven't been sleeping very well," Willow replied.

"When one of us is attacked, we are all attacked. We're here to help. What do you know?" Oak asked

Willow ran his fingers through his hair. "It is Team Rocket. They have genetically altered the Pokémon, made them more aggressive, impulsive, they barely follow orders from their trainer, and they don't always discriminate between Pokѐmon and person. We can cure them if we can catch them, but they are as difficult to catch as they are to battle."

"Do we know who is in charge?" asked Oak.

"Yes, Giovanni."

Willow let that information settle in and went for a drink at the station set up outside the medical tent. There were lots of people around, all staring at the most stellar gathering in the Pokѐmon world happening in an unimportant field on Kanto's Route 5. Tired and frightened as some of them were, they had enough about them to get their phones out and take pictures. Draining a beaker of water, Willow turned back to the group.

"How reliable is your source?" Oak asked.

Folding his arms, Willow grinned. "Ask your researcher and your champion. They vouched for him after all."

To his credit, Ash looked embarrassed. On the other hand, Chase tossed her head.

"Where is James?" she asked. "I'm assuming that's who you're talking about."

"Did you know?" Willow asked her directly, ignoring everyone around them. "When you recommended him to me, did you know?"

"How do you think we met?" the champion asked. "But I'm not an idiot, Professor."

"Am I missing something?" Birch asked.

"A Team Rocket grunt has become a Pokѐmon Professor's assistant?" Oak asked with a small smile infuriated Willow.

"So what if he was a grunt before?” Chase asked, tossing her long blue hair back over her shoulders. “We all make mistakes but that doesn’t mean we have to keep paying for them. When Kukui told me he was sending James to the university, I couldn’t have been happier, and I don’t regret recommending him.”

“What about lying to me?” Willow asked.

“I lie to you every time I’ve seen your latest video,” she said which earned her a bark of laughter from Lance.

"It doesn't really matter," Willow said. "James has gone back to them. He tricked us all."

"Actually, he may not have done," Wallace said. "The Coordinator, Jessilina, she's gone missing. We were supposed to meet for some training, but her home had been broken into. It is a mess, furniture and windows broken. I think she was taken by force. Her Pokѐmon, Meowth, too."

Chase laughed. "I pity whoever thought they were brave enough to take her on."

"She always said if anything like this happened, I needed to warn James. But if she was taken against her will, maybe James isn't here for the same reason," Wallace suggested.

Willow thought back to the night when he and James had watched the co-ordinator league. There had been a pink-haired woman that James had referred to as a friend. Only James hadn't called her Jessilina, he'd called her Jessie.

"Another Team Rocket grunt?" he asked.

"Was," Wallace agreed. "But I knew she was something more from the minute I met her."

"And you were OK with that?" Willow asked. "It's like Chase said. I didn't want her past to shape her future."

"But at least you knew what you were getting yourself into," Willow said. "Any one of you could have told me, could have given me all his positives as well as telling me about his past. I still would have taken him on, how could I not, he’s intelligent, compassionate and funny, but I'd have made an informed decision."

Willow was aware his voice had risen, but he didn't care. His friends had manipulated him, seen his embryonic fondness for this man, and used it for James's benefit as if Willow would be too blinded by what James had been to see what was right before him. Facing those people who had caused this destructive conflict in him, Willow's anger rose, and he turned away from them.

But Wallace's words had reached Willow. What if James was not absent by choice. Lavender made this Jessie seem like a woman not to be messed with, and James had given a similar impression of her. Fiery where James was subservient. Could James's peaceful vanishing be the same as Jessie's violent abduction?

His gaze fell on Kirlia. She was sitting on the ground just outside the medical tent, sad. Ralts, Kirlia, and Gardevoir were psychic Pokѐmon. They saw the heart of the trainer and only selected those pure of heart. Initially, Ralts had picked Willow and travelled with him from the Hoenn region around the rest of the world. But then James had arrived and Ralts had turned to him, loved him, evolved for him.

Painfully, Willow acknowledged his anger wasn't at James who had been trusted him with the worst thing he had done. It was at himself for handling it so badly.

Ignoring the conversation behind him, the professors and trainers arguing over where to go from here and who should have told Willow what, Willow walked over to Kirlia and sat down in front of her.

"Kirlia?" Kirlia asked, opening her eyes.

"James is a good man, isn't he?" Willow said.

"Kirlia."

It could have meant anything, but Willow interpreted it as yes.

"He wanted to be here with us, didn't he?"

"Kirlia."

"And now he's in danger, I think, but I can't find him."

Kirlia put her head to one side. Rapt attention, listening, fully focused. Willow hated what he was about to do, but it was only a request, Kirlia could tell him no and he would try another way.

"You can though. As Gardevoir. You can see the future, find your partner, help him."

"Kirlia." She sounded sad.

Willow waited for her to do something, give him an indication of what her issue was. Kirlia skipped to Willow. She placed her hand on his chest and leaned against him. Willow was hit with all those memories of James that had come to build Willow's impression of him. James's smile, the way it was always there, just waiting for a comment to turn it into a full bright beam that affected everyone. His patience when Willow rambled on about things that caught his attention but seemed trivial to everyone else. His snarky sense of humour and biting comments, often saying what people thought but would never dare say themselves. His gentleness and compassion around Pokѐmon, treating them as equals, not pets or weapons to battle with. The way James had stayed with Willow when he'd had many opportunities to leave him, but always accepting the opportunities that kept them together.

"He did this for me, didn't he?" Willow asked Kirlia.

Kirlia nodded. She glowed, growing warm. The scent of blossom and candyfloss filled the air. The other Pokѐmon all called out until it became a song that caused tears to form in Willow's eyes. She grew taller until she eclipsed the sun and Willow bowed at the feet of Gardevoir. The beautiful Pokѐmon cupped Willow's chin in her hand and lifted his head. She was smiling. Her smile was clear. She could find James.

"Please, someone tell me they recorded that," Birch said.

"Probably not," Spark said. "Pokѐmon evolve all the time around James."

"Do not exaggerate," Blanche said. "Only one has evolved."

"That one."

"But only once."

Willow ignored them and stood. Gardevoir stroked his face. She radiated love and protection. She had left her home to follow Willow then evolved for James. Had she seen where their relationship would go? Everyone thought that only in her evolved form could Gardevoir could see the future, but what could Ralts sense? Was she actually their Pokѐmon, James's and Willow's, rather than just one or the other? The Pokѐmon wasn't quite as tall as Willow. She lifted off the ground, floating, her white skirts flowing around her, and she put her arms around Willow. He felt love as if he was her child and needed her to protect him. It was affirming and for that moment, Willow let himself relax that there was a mystical force bigger than him was on his side. But there was something missing, a third person that made their relationship stronger.

"Can you find James?" he asked Gardevoir.

She nodded and glided to the operations part of the camp where a large physical map that Willow had been using to plot the attacks were spread out on the ground. She fluttered around it for a minute then stooped and pressed a finger on a spot.

"Gardevoir," she said.

James was there.


	14. Chapter 14

The location Gardevoir identified was a large country house in the middle of nowhere. Spark told him it was officially a private residence but that unofficially it belonged to Giovanni. How Spark had come by this information, Willow didn't ask. Sometimes it was better not to know. Spark had also told him that the grounds were so heavily electrified Zapdos’s ball was crackling.

Willow regarded the house. As the evening had drawn in, the lights had come on. Not all of them but enough for Willow to be grateful he wasn’t on his own. Battling with Pokѐmon wasn't something he'd ever done, even as a child. His parents had raised him differently to that and now he was looking at a situation where, for the first time in his life, he was having to take a back seat.

"Are you OK?" Candela asked, crouching down in the undergrowth near him.

"Just thinking."

"How are we going to do this?" Blanche asked, adopting her usual approach.

If it was a Pokѐmon they were hunting, he would just sit and wait them out, but that would take too long. Nor did he want to go from room to room in an unfamiliar location. He needed to draw them out. He needed to give them a reason to leave. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Right, I'm going to approach the house," he said. “Hopefully, they’ll pick me up on their cameras and concentrate on me, so you all can get closer.”

"They'll attack you," Candela protested. "And you'll defend me," he replied.

"So, we will use you as bait," Blanche said. She straightened and left to tell everyone the plan. "She wouldn't have changed my mind, but it would have been nice for her to try," Willow said and Candela covered her laugh with a hand.

"She just trusts her instincts and yours. If you say that is what you are going to do, Blanche just trusts you know what you're doing," Candela told him.

"And you?"

"I think you're grown up enough to make these decisions for yourself. I'll get ready."

“Professor?” Chase called softly from behind them.

Candela slipped away, replaced by the champion.

“I have watched all your vlogs,” she said.

“And you were James’s friend long before we met. I hope, should the time come, you’ll fight for me as much as you have done him,” Willow said accepting the apology.

“I’ve brought Eevee and Gengar with me,” Chase said with an evil snigger. “I will cause chaos and it will all be for you.”

“Chase of Pallet Town, Kanto’s Champion of Chaos.”

Again, she laughed so darkly it seemed impossible to come from someone so wholesome looking. When Agatha retired, Chase would be a more than suitable replacement for the queen of ghosts.

The walk to the house felt longer than the slog back to the camp with a broken leg. Willow fought the urge to look behind him. If Giovanni didn't know there were others with him, then Willow didn't want to play his hand too soon. He sensed Gardevoir was out there somewhere, watching over him like a wayward child who could do up his own shoes. He wasn't alone. But James was and that kept Willow putting one foot in front of the other instead of running back to the others.

As he reached the door, a young woman opened it.

"Go away," she said. "Private property."

"Tell Giovanni I'm here," Willow said.

Uncertainty crossed the woman's face, her hesitation telling Willow everything he needed about Giovanni's location. There was a whispered conversation, then she moved back from the door, and Giovanni took her place.

"I thought you would have been here sooner," Giovanni said.

"Why are you attacking the Pokѐstop?" Willow asked. "Why are you attacking my researchers?"

"You never were very good at small talk were you." Giovanni leaned against the door frame. Willow could see a staircase but nothing else.

"No, I want to know why you are sabotaging my work?" Willow asked.

"Shits and giggles. Something to fill my days before I die. Free stuff. My horoscope told me to do it. Pick one."

"That's not an answer."

"Some things don't have answers," Giovanni said simply.

Willow clenched his teeth to prevent grinding them. There were always answers, it was why he became a professor. He might struggle to work them out himself, but with a large enough pool of minds, he would connect the dots eventually. Giovanni had the answers but didn't want to give them. Giovanni was playing with him which angered Willow far more than he would have expected.

"Go away, Professor," Giovanni said. "I will contact you in a few days. Give me what I want, and I will leave your Pokѐstops alone. For a while"

"You cannot blackmail me like that."

"I think you will find the word is bribe. If it was blackmail, I would say something more like, give me what I want, or everyone will find out you have been sleeping with a member of Team Rocket. It would be interesting to see how many fans you still have after that piece of information goes public."

"He isn't a member of Team Rocket anymore."

"I have enough CCTV footage of him coming here of his own free will to cast serious doubt over that. Do you see, Willow? You have no angle to work with, so run along like a good little academic and I'll keep James here with me to guarantee your continued co-operation."

Willow jumped. He hadn't meant to, but Giovanni's face, his smugness, his arrogance, pushed Willow's buttons and before he understood what was happening, he had jumped forward, yelling and was punching Giovanni. Or trying to at least. His knuckles stung like he'd landed one punch before two grunts appeared and pulled him off their boss. Giovanni pressed the back of his hands to his mouth. It came away with blood.

"I was going to let you go," he said. "It's always useful to have a professor in your pocket. But you disrespected me in front of my subordinates."

"Do you think you can just make me disappear?" Willow demanded, straining at the grunts holding him back.

"Do you think because you are Professor Willow, I can't make you disappear?" Giovanni asked. "It is precisely because you are Professor Willow that I can. The professor who goes off alone into the field. The professor who has already fallen once and needed surgery. The professor so eager to get back out there. Who knows what danger befell you in the night? On your own."

Black stars blinded Willow. His ears rung as his head grew too heavy for his head and he slumped over. Giovanni had hit him. Twice. Then a third time, forcing his eye shut. But despite the blood in his mouth and the fire burning his stomach, Willow smiled. He could smell candyfloss. Spitting blood, Willow lifted his head and grinned at Giovanni. The night filled with the sounds of Pokѐballs whizzing through the air. Giovanni's horror of realisation was lit up for Willow in blue, red, and yellow as Willow's team leaders' legendary birds hovered at his back.

"What makes you think I'm alone?" Willow asked.


	15. Chapter 15

Something was going on outside.

From outside his holding cell, James heard grunts running and shouting at each other, and was too frightened to consider what it meant. Phrases like 'fucking busy-body' came across loud and clear, which meant only one thing to James; Professor Willow.

The only question was why had the professor arrived. Was it because of James or Giovanni? Did it matter? There was a situation and James was a master at taking advantage of those.

There was only a mattress in the room. Not even a toilet. If he needed anything, he had to bang on the door till someone came.

James hauled the mattress up to the corner by the door, ignoring the burning of his broken ribs. Once the mattress was in place, he raised his hand to hit the door, then stopped.

“Boss wants him upstairs,” he heard through the door.

“What about her?”

“Nah, just him.”

James darted behind the mattress as the door opened.

"Oi, Traitor, the boss wants.”

James didn’t hear what Giovanni wanted. He threw himself forward, smashing the mattress into the two grunts who had come into the room. The door swung into the other wall then crashed back into them. Their groans were cut short and there was no resistance coming from their side of the mattress. Letting the mattress go, James checked on the two grunts. They’d never stood a chance, kids no older than him when he’d joined. That was how little Giovanni thought of him that he sent two kids to collect him.

He arranged them on the mattress, swiped their access cards and shut them in the cell. From the way the building shook, they were probably safer down there anyway.

After telling Giovanni everything, and after the first of many beatings, James had been dragged into the lift and taken to another floor. With the key card, his first instinct was Jessie, Meowth, and Growlie. He went along the corridor, checking the other rooms, but they were empty. Would Giovanni have kept Jessie on the other floor so he could watch her torture? Was she already dead? Was she working with Giovanni?

All these fears and more assaulted James in the lift journey down to the bottom floor and Giovanni's office. It was only when the doors opened that he considered the possibility the room was full of people.

There was no one.

James pulled the emergency stop in the lift and stepped out. The two-way glass where he'd last seen Jessie was dark, so he had no idea if she was in there or not. Giovanni had controlled everything with a remote. James crept across the room and searched the desk. He found the remote and a battered Pokѐball. He rolled the Pokѐball around in his hands. It could be Giovanni's persian, that vile smug creature, or it could be Meowth. Or it could be another Pokѐmon entirely.

Something exploded above him, making the lights flicker and plaster dust down on his head. James threw the Pokѐball, pressing the button.

"James. James. James."

Meowth was still shouting him as if no time had passed. The little creature bounced around, half-mad with panic. Meowth had never liked being in a Pokѐball. They had used it as a threat when he'd gotten too gobby but it had always been an empty threat. Even back then James had known not every Pokѐmon was meant to go in a ball.

"Meowth," he called softly.

"You came back!" Meowth jumped at James and rubbed his face with his furry body. "Oh, I knew you'd come back for me. I just knew it. I told Jessie when they took us you'd come and get us. I've missed you. You look a mess."

Meowth climbed all over him, getting his short spiky hairs in James's eye, nose and mouth, and highlighting which parts of his face were tender. He didn't care. Meowth's familiar scent was welcome after these last few weeks. Although he had always been hungry and constantly cold from sleeping outside all the time, life with Jessie and Meowth had been simpler.

Another boom that rocked the foundations and brought James back to himself. He hooked Meowth under one arm and returned to the desk. He found the remote and pressed a button. The screens came to life.

"What the hell is goin' on out there?" Meowth asked, inching across the desk.

Chaos.

The screens showed the grounds which were swarming with Pokѐmon and people. Some of the Pokѐmon were little more than blurs as they battled, others were blinding balls in the air, some were dark hulking shadows that made the CCTV tremble as they walked. And others were insubstantial wisps of black smoke with red eyes. And a tall man with grey hair in the middle of it all without a Pokémon to protect him.

"Ain't that the professor you're workin' for?" Meowth asked.

James could only nod. Not only had Willow come for him, but he had also brought allies. Spark ran almost as fast as his zapdos flew. Ash still fought as if he was a child with lots of air punches and dramatic gestures. There were others, Chase, Wallace, Blanche, Candela. Familiar faces appearing briefly then vanishing almost quicker than James could register them.

"Are they your friends?" Meowth asked.

"Yes."

"They're fightin' for you? They must really like you."

"And we need to get out to them," James said. "But not without Jessie."

James pressed another button on the remote and the two-way glass changed again. Jessie was still there, tied to a chair, head down.

"Is she dead?" Meowth asked.

"Can you break the glass?" James asked in return.

"Anything for you, James."

Meowth hopped off the table and attacked the glass in a flurry of scratches which weakened the glass. James used the remote to shatter the pane entirely and stepped through. Jessie raised her head. Despite her appearance, her knotty hair, her stained make-up, her bust lip, and black eye, despite the fingers bending in the wrong direction, anger burned in Jessie's eyes.

James knelt by her chair and examined her fingers. They were dislocated, possibly broken, and unfortunately not the only time one of them had needed bones setting in the field. James went back to the table and found a couple of pens. Removing his shirt and t-shirt, James tore the t-shirt into pieces then put his shirt back on. Jessie watched him with knowing eyes, not crying or making a sound. He knelt back by her.

"I'll set your fingers then set you free. You can hit me then, yes?" he said.

She nodded. And didn't make a sound as James popped three of her fingers back into their joints and wrapped her fingers as tightly to the pens as he could to keep them straight. Then he set her free from the chair and winced waiting for her to take her anger out on him. Instead, she leapt into his arms.

"I have never been so happy to see you, you great dolt," she said.

"I'm happy to see you too," he said. "But we need to get out of here. Wallace is waiting for you."

"I can't let him see me like this," she whimpered. "He'll never vote for me in a competition again."

They both giggled, weak and frightened, Jessie clinging to James in a way she had never done before. The moment was over before it started and Jessie stood, using her uninjured hand to straighten her clothing.

"Let's go. The last thing I need is some man rescuing me," she said.

“I’m a man,” he reminded her.

Jessie and Meowth laughed so hard they cried.

“Oh James. You always were funny,” Jessie sang at him.

"Whatever,” he said. “I need to find my Pokѐmon, Growlie. Giovanni put him in a masterball."

He went back to the desk and began rummaging through the drawers. There was no sign of the Pokѐball.

"I can't lose him again, Jessie. I just can't," he complained, eyes stinging with threatening tears.

"Oh, quit your whining, Cry-baby," she snapped. "We'll fine Giovanni and I'll beat him until he hands it over."


	16. Chapter 16

The Champion of Chaos was the perfect name for Chase.

While the grunts with Giovanni had stared at the legendary birds Zapdos, Articuno, and Moltres, Chase had unleashed her gengar to devastating effect.

It had materialised in front of Willow, eyes and teeth first. There had been some screams, some panic throwing of Pokѐballs and some hasty orders shouted. A grunt had ordered their arbok to use Earthquake. A stupid move, it had little effect on the three legendary birds or Gengar who vanished, but it destroyed the ground around them, sending everyone sprawling.

Things got worse after that. There was a structure to Pokѐmon battles. Two trainers, sometimes four if it was doubles, each using one Pokѐmon at a time. This, however, was insanity.

Trainers’ voices were lost under the din of Pokémon screams. There was no uniform attack line. Moltres flew across the battlefield, it’s flaming tail feathers scorching everything in its path, filling the night with the stench of charred flesh. Pokémon fell with burnt, weeping flesh, their screams so agonised they would haunt Willow’s sleep forever.

Across from him, Chase raised her hand and Gengar flew passed her towards a grunt stood behind Willow. The passing chilled Willow to the core, but the grunt took the full impact, terrified into immobility. The bond between Chase and her Pokémon was so strong, she didn’t speak, but they knew what she wanted, how far to push it, and how far to pull it back. The grunt fell backwards, frozen in a defensive pose, alive but incapacitated.

Lucky for the grunt as a misaimed fireball flew towards them, missing the prone grunt and Willow as he dove to the ground. The fireball hit a Bulbasaur which collapsed in front of him, its bulb burnt, a clear liquid oozing from it. Willow threw up.

No one should use Pokémon this way. Of course, he knew that Pokémon battled one another as well as any people they came across. It was in their nature, and yet out in the field, there were so few battles. It was as if the Pokémon sensed the nature of the people around them and responded accordingly. It seemed so cruel to use them, damage them in this way. At least, Chase’s and the other trainer’s Pokémon were choosing to fight. What choice did these shadow Pokémon have?

Willow didn't know how many people Giovanni had but they had all come running when an alarm had sounded. And all of them had Pokѐmon, both shadow and normal. The shadow Pokémon seemed almost impossible to control. In his distracted state on the floor, Willow mused if it was because Team Rocket hadn't caught the Pokѐmon for themselves but been given them. Bonding increased the efficiency of the teamwork between trainer and Pokѐmon. But these shadow Pokѐmon were feral, attacking anyone and everyone. Even their own trainers.

A rattata saw him and swerved, its red eyes battle-mad. Its attention forced Willow back to movement and he rolled to his feet as Gardevoir danced in between the Pokѐmon and Willow. Acid filled Willow's mouth. He didn't know what to do. Yes, Gardevoir had been with him for a while, but they'd never battled together. Gardevoir twirled and blew a kiss at the rattata which stopped the shadow Pokѐmon in its tracks. It wobbled, then fell over.

He stared at the limp body. This was all wrong. It was still alive, but that wasn't the point. The rattata should never have been in this situation in the first place. It was the kind of cruelty only a human could think of.

A Pokѐball whizzed through the air and hit the rattata, sucking it inside and closing straight away.

"You don't have time to stare, Professor," Chase shouted at him. "What are you doing?"

"Fighting with Pokѐmon is wrong," he shouted back.

An icy wind blew at them, a consequence of standing too near Blanche's articuno when it attacked. Chase pushed Willow over, and they stayed down until the blast was over. Their proximity made Willow realise how sweaty he was as Chase covered him, Gengar covering her.

"It's what Pokѐmon do. They chase us down wanting to fight. Even if we left them alone, they would battle each other," Chase said.

"But this is wrong," Willow insisted. "Then find Giovanni. Stop standing around."

Chase ran back into the fight, leaping over Pokѐmon as they fell on the ground and dodging ill-thought-out moves as they flew through the air on the scent of barbequed Pokѐmon.

Through the chaos, Willow spotted Giovanni. Somehow the little creep had made his way back to the house and was at the entrance. It didn't matter. Willow headed towards the house, moving around the battles, ignoring the frozen Zubat as it collapsed in front of his feet, a wing shattering on impact, its cries of pain remaining in the air even after Ash had thrown a Pokѐball and caught it.

Willow leapt up the stairs to the house two at a time and punched Giovanni in the face.

"You bastard," Willow shouted, straddling the older man. "Why have you done this? What's the point?"

Willow finished each question with a punch. He raised his fist to hit him again and someone caught his hand and pulled him back. A man Willow's height and twice his build had hold of him.

"You don't hit the boss," the man leered in Willow's face. "Especially not a pathetic little runt like you."

The man changed his grip, putting his arm around Willow's neck and holding Willow's hair with his other hand. He squeezed Willow's hair, bending him over backwards, so he was completely reliant on the other man holding him upright. Giovanni stood and straightened his suit.

"Enough," Giovanni shouted.

The fighting stopped quicker than Willow would have liked. Especially as it seemed his side was winning. And he had ruined it by charging in on his own.

"You hand over your Pokѐmon now, or I will hurt your professor," Giovanni said. His calm voice carried across the quiet grounds.

"Don't do it," Willow shouted.

Giovanni rolled his eyes and pointed to Willow's right leg.

"Mid-shin if I recall," Giovanni said, no change in his tone.

The man holding Willow grunted. He let go of Willow's hair and punched him in the shin. Willow heard screaming and it wasn't until he took a breath that he realised it was him screaming.

"Now, that one wasn't so hard, a gimme really. But make no mistake, Cliff can and will break the other leg if I tell him to," Giovanni said.

This pain was worse than the first time Willow had broken his leg. Cliff regripped his hair, but he didn't feel it for the agony in his leg. He couldn't support himself, couldn't hold on to Cliff. Unconsciousness fluttered at the edges of his vision.

"You can't think you'll get away with this," Chase shouted.

"Oh. It's you," Giovanni sniffed. "Another gullible fool. It is pointless to carry on. Give me your Pokѐmon and we'll let him go. If not, we'll break every bone in his body until you do."

"You bastard," Chase said.

"Such terrible language from such a young lady," Giovanni smarmed. "But still it changes nothing. Your eevee, Chase now."

Chase cradled Eevee's Pokѐball to her chest, shaking her head slightly.

"No," she said.

Cliff jerked Willow’s arm.

The pain was so intense that Willow didn’t feel anything for a moment or two. Then it hit him. His arm was too heavy as if it was a dead weight connected to his body.

“That’s one leg and one arm, Chase. How many more limbs of your precious professor do I have to have broken before you’ll put his health before your pride?”

Willow closed his eyes, waiting for the blow on his other leg that would finish his consciousness off.

Instead, a Pokѐball bounced off Giovanni’s head.

“See how you like it,” said a high-pitched voice.

Giovanni turned and another pokѐball smacked him in the face. James was in the doorway with a Meowth in his arms. Through his delirium of pain, Willow thought it was the Meowth talking, but that was impossible, Pokémon didn’t talk. Then the Meowth produced another ball and leapt from James’s arms onto Giovanni, hitting him over and over in the face.

Giovanni fell backwards, the Meowth hitting him and shouting “Get in the ball!” with every smash.

Cliff let Willow go. Willow fell to the ground and Cliff stepped over him. He didn’t get far before a pink-haired woman stopped him. No, not a pink-haired woman, THE pink-haired woman.

“Jessie,” Wallace cried.

“Not now, Wallace,” she said raising a hand in Wallace’s direction.

The hand looked mangled but that could have been Willow’s angle. She turned on Cliff.

“Not so tough when you’re on your own, are you?” she asked him.

“I,” Cliff started.

Jessie punched him. No warning, no preamble. A clean efficient punch that got Cliff square in the face. The man went down, falling over Willow and didn’t move again. Fresh pain shot through him as his legs took the brunt of the other man’s weight.

“Enough, Meowth,” James said, pulling the little Pokémon off Giovanni.

“It’ll be enough when he’s in a ball,” the meowth said.

“I think you’ve made your point.” James put the Pokémon on his shoulder. “Soon he’ll be in a cell, which is like a ball.”

“Yeah, well, he better had. And look, here's a masterball. Bet its got your growlithe in it.”

Willow wasn’t hallucinating, Meowth was definitely speaking. And the fight was still ongoing. He was aware of grunts running, chased by dragons and ghosts. An eevee sitting on Giovanni’s chest. A red-eyed raticate creeping towards him.

“Not again,” he groaned and tried to get up.

But Cliff was a big man, and unconscious he weighed three times more than Willow. Willow pushed with his one good arm without any success. The raticate crept closer, it’s putrid breath turning Willow’s stomach. Then Growlie bounded over him and roared at it, burning it. The raticate fainted. Willow picked up one of the balls the meowth had used on Giovanni and threw it at the raticate, capturing it. Willow fell back, exhausted with relief which was short-lived as his leg was still trapped.

“Professor, are you alright?” James asked kneeling beside him.

“I came to rescue you,” Willow said.

“Thank you,” James replied, smiling.

“I think,” Willow started. “I think I’ll pass out now if that’s OK?”

“Go ahead. I’ll get you home,” James promised.

Pink swirled around Willow, candy floss and blossom. James and Gardevoir were with him. This was as it should be.


	17. Chapter 17

The doctors had told Willow he was lucky. Cliff’s punch had aggravated his old wound, nothing more. His arm had been put back in straight away which had limited the damage. He was back on the pain relief and anti-inflamatories, but his leg was only bandaged instead of a cast which meant crutches, not a wheelchair.

He didn’t feel very lucky though. He’d passed out looking at James, but it had been Oak’s craggy face he’d woken up to and in the three days since, he hadn’t seen James once. He’d heard him, or at least heard Jessie and Meowth and assumed he was with him. He’d heard Chase laughing and assumed it was James. He just hadn’t been brave enough to leave his hospital room and find out

Now he was in the university’s canteen, his crutches leaning next to him, Professor Oak opposite him and an untouched cheese sandwich in front of him.

“Are you going to eat that?” Oak reached over and took a sandwich from Willow’s plate. “Look, I know how this must be hurting you. You never were one for sitting still. But it’s what you need to recover, or you’ll end up like Juniper needing a stick to walk and the wild areas aren’t designed for walking sticks.”

Willow sat back, folding his arms, looking away. “Alright, seen as though you’re already in a pissy mood, I may as well make it worse,” Oak said, wiping his hands on a napkin. “The university is putting you on sabbatical for six months.”

“What?!” Willow’s shout drew attention from everyone in the canteen.

“What?” he repeated, lowering his voice and leaning forward.

“This is the second time in six months that you’ve been hospitalised.”

“They’re sidelining me for getting injured?”

“Don’t interrupt, Edgar, you know I don’t like it. And don’t pout either, people are watching. No, they are not sidelining you, Professor Willow. You are an inspiration to younger generations, encouraging them into the field of Pokémon studies. You bring in stupid amounts of revenue through sponsorship and donations. And, when you’re actually in a classroom, you are a great teacher. For that reason, the university wants to protect their prized asset, which means you have six months holiday before they start working you to the bone again.”

Willow pouted despite Oak’s warning. He hated logic he couldn’t argue against and there was no flaw in Oak’s reasoning. More, he understood there was no arguing against it. This came from the university, his employers and he couldn’t ignore them. They were just delivering the message in a way that he would respect.

“What am I supposed to do for six months? What about my work?” he asked.

“You have three exceptionally talented assistants, who are all ripe for taking the next step towards becoming professors themselves. They can carry on the work. I am certain the stipulation of the sabbatical only keeps you from the field, not away from the phone. And as for what you can do? Read a book, visit friends, spend time with loved ones. It is my impression Ash’s friend with lilac hair was the reason all this started. Why not spend time with him? In fact, why isn’t he over here with us? You have spoken to him, haven’t you?”

Willow sucked through his teeth and looked away. There were some conversations he wasn’t ready for. Probably never would be.

“Want to talk to me first, so you’ve got it sorted in your head?” Oak asked.

“What’s there to say? I treated him like shit then turned my back on him when he was doing everything he could to be better than his past.”

“You could start with ‘I’m sorry’.”

Willow glared at Oak, but the old man just stared back at him, slightly amused. He felt like a student again. Oak had always been brutal in telling Willow things he needed to hear. It smarted at the time, but Willow always left knowing what he had to do in order to move forward. But.

“But what if he tells me to get lost?” Willow asked.

“We don’t know he will. We don’t know he won’t of course, it’s that whole Meowth in a box thing. Is the Meowth alive or dead? We won’t know till we open the box.”

Willow narrowed his eyes at him.

“You were always my least favourite professor,” he said.

“And you were always a diva. Get over there and talk to him before Kukui convinces him to go to Alola and you never see him again,” Oak retorted.

“He’s here?”

Willow spun around so fast his arm hurt. He winced and gripped his shoulder, searching the canteen crowd for lilac hair. It didn’t take long to find him sitting with Kukui at a table exactly behind him. Willow rubbed his face. They would have definitely heard his outburst.

“When did Kukui get here?” Willow hissed.

“Yesterday. He was worried about you. And James, of course.”

“You’re not helping”

“Go on, get over there before I have to do something embarrassing to get you talking,” Oak said.

Hobbling over to the table where James sat was the longest journey of Willow’s life. Growlie sat next to James, eyes locked on the food on James’s plate and Gardevoir was sat on a chair beside him which answered all of Willow’s questions about whose Pokémon she was. She was James’s through and through, and Willow should just be grateful he was allowed in their presence.

As Willow got close then Growlie locked his attention on him, letting off a small growl. Kukui and James looked up at him and he wished he had chosen a more private location to have this meeting.

“The crutches suit you, Edgar. I might be able to outrun you this time,” Kukui said.

Kukui’s grin, his mannerisms, were playful. At least he wasn’t angry with Willow. James smiled then returned to his dinner, breaking off bits to feed Growlie.

“Are you admitting that was the only reason you got arrested?” Willow asked.

“Maybe. Anyway, now you’re going on enforced holiday, you come and visit,” Kukui said.

“How do you know that?”

“Cos I know everything. Like why you’re here.” Kukui tapped a beat on the table and stood up. “We’ll catch up later, James. We need to discuss when you’re moving over to Alola.”

“Alola,” James whispered.

“Laters, Edgar. We’ll have drinks before James and I go.”

“Bye,” James said quietly.

“Are you leaving?” Willow asked as Kukui left the canteen slowly, stopping at almost every table to have his photo taken with the students.

James played with his dinner a little more, feeding it to Growlie. Willow let the silence grow until James cleared his throat.

“He’s asked me,” James said, carefully. “When he first suggested I went to university, he said that if I didn’t have a job to go to when I’d finished, I always had a place with him.”

Willow rubbed his fingers together. It would be easy to shake James’s hand and wish him well. Tell him if it didn’t work out with Kukui then he would have a place for James on his team, knowing that that was something that would never happen. The hard road would be to fight and for that one moment, Willow didn’t know which to do. What would be best for either of them.

“And is that where you want to go?” Willow asked, stalling for time, avoiding making the decision.

“I don’t know. I’d never had options before. Not even with my parents. But Professors Oak and Sycamore both offered me positions today if I wanted it. And Professor Rowan, he wanted to talk to me about some ideas he had. How do you decide which is the best choice?”

“I’m not sure. It’s a difficult decision.” Willow finished off in a mumble and stared at the table. “Or you could just not make a decision straight away. Give me six months to make up for being such an asshole.”

James tensed. Willow rubbed his fingers together a little more. He hadn’t meant to say the last bit, but once he’d started talking, he couldn’t stop. His horror grew worse as he continued to speak.

“Because I was an asshole. That day with the rattatas, dissecting them, studying them, it hurt. I felt sick the whole day and I just wanted to get back to you, and just the sight of you in that towel was making me feel better, right up until you needed me more than I could give you, and then I reacted badly.”

Willow stopped abruptly. Even thinking about that day was painful, not just for what he had been forced to do but also for thinking about his behaviour. His leg pain dragged on him. The canteen was too intense. Too many people, too much noise, too many eyes watching him.

“Can we get out of here?” he asked James. “I’m not comfortable.”

“Of course.”

James stood and waited for Willow to gather his crutches and stand again before tucking his chair in for him. They walked outside, Growlie padding at James's heels. A hint of candy floss announced Gardevoir’s arrival as she appeared behind James and Willow. It was warm, comforting. They walked in silence for a few minutes, Willow enjoying the peace but also racing over how to move on from his mistakes. It was James that broke the silence first.

“I don’t want to go to Alola,” James blurted. “Not alone. I mean it’s nice and all, warm, but I want to stay with you. I know you don’t trust me, not after what I’ve done. But that was a long time ago and it isn’t who I am now, and I’ve learnt so much from being with you and I like being with you and I’m just so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. Will you forgive me?”

It took Willow a moment to process the rush of James’s words.

“Forgive you? You did nothing wrong. I was the one who didn’t listen to you, I judged you based on what you did years ago rather than what I knew about you. I’m the one who let my pride get in the way of.”

He stopped because their relationship hadn’t gotten beyond a meal where their mutual interest was vocalised. James had been shy, not a normal characteristic for him, but the discussion had been led by him, Willow still terrified of reprisals because James had technically been a student of his.

“Do you still want ‘us’?” James asked.

“Do you? After the way I treated you?”

“I suppose we were both wrong,” James mumbled, his head dropping, and his hair fell over his face.

“No, you made a mistake when you were a kid, I let my pride get in the way. Do you know, as a professor I’m expected to know everything, and even when I don’t, I know how to find out the information. I thought I was a good judge of character, and you showed me I was wrong. I didn’t handle that well.” Willow ran his un-crutched hand through his hair. “I have many little quirks like that. Oak, well Professor Oak calls me a diva. I think I know everything and hate it when I’m wrong. I’m obsessive about my work and I’m likely to get distracted for hours on end about some minute little thing. I prefer being outside in the Wild Areas. I can’t guarantee regular hours. But when we’re together I will give you the same obsessive dedication that my work gets. And if you’re there, beside me, working with me, I’m more likely to show you the affection you deserve.”

Willow paused again. “I know this makes me the winner here. I’m getting everything I want out of life and I’m expecting you to tag along with me as if you don’t have desires or dreams of your own. I guess I’m crap with.”

He didn’t finish his sentence. James jumped on him, knocking him back into Gardevoir even as he pressed his lips to Willow’s and clumsily kissed him. And Willow kissed him back, his mouth moving before his brain caught up with events in a surge of blood. He forgot he needed to keep the weight off his leg because he had wanted this kiss for eighteen months. James’s taste of mint was heady. Willow’s hands itched to touch his hair but had to hold back.

Right now, it was a kiss, he focused on their lips touching and not the rest of the places where their bodies were connected. But if he did. If he recognised how soft James’s lips were, how exciting their height difference was for Willow, how James’s hands fluttered at the edges of Willow’s arms as if wanting to hold him, then it wouldn’t be a kiss. They wouldn’t be standing. With more restraint than he thought he had, Willow pressed his lips to James’s harder then pulled away. They were in a park. People were watching. Please, let them only be watching.

“I take it you are happy with my proposal,” he said. James’s blush deepened. He nodded.

“Yes,” he replied, voice so thick he choked.

“Yes,” James repeated, clearer this time.

They carried on walking, Willow only using one crutch and James holding his other hand. Six months off didn’t seem like the worst prospect of Willow’s life.


End file.
